


Pristine

by orphan_account



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Angst, George is a good friend, I’m sorry guys, John is Evil, John is Not Amused, Masturbation, Multi, Paul is confused, and pete, everyone is literally friendly, except stuart at first, future smut, george is nice and understanding, he’s also cute, jim mccartney is an ass, jim mccartney is overprotective, john is friendly, not really but he has a dark side, one day i’ll make him nice, paul slowly loses his sanity but he’ll be okay, paul’s point of view for the first few chapters, poor paul
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2020-10-27 10:57:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 26,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20759240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Paul lives in a cleansed household, with a father who’s overprotective and bound to keep his son’s in a safe and clean environment. Once Paul goes off to school, his life starts changing and he becomes introduced to new things, coming to terms that not everything is as dangerous as his father makes it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is not a fic to offend anyone, OCD & other cleaning disorders are not to be glorified & romanticized. if you feel as if you’re offended, i deeply apologize & i’ll try to make this as accurate as i can.

_What’s wrong with me?_

_“We’re very clean.” I spoke aloud, staring up at the shadowed figure towering over me. The person had no face, and they were slightly deformed with an arch of the back along with three fingers, two nuns and one leg. The other leg was bent the other way, but it seemed as if it didn’t hurt the person._

__

_ “You don’t have any friends Paulie.”_

_“I know, dad says they’re dirty.”_

_What are friends? I don’t go to school to figure out what they are. Are they some type of combatants of an individual? A sudden unpleasant tingle ran throughout my body, which sent goosebumps up my pale skin. Sometimes I wish I had friends. I’m tired of talking with this same person, all they do is ask me questions I don’t know the answer to. Or maybe I do._

_“You’re going to school for the first time tomorrow Paulie.”_

“I know mate.”

__

Oh yes, school. Speaking of school, I go tomorrow. Some men came over, said something about how the law works and the board of education wants everyone united. My dad is taking it severely hard, giving me several injections hours apart — it’s giving my right arm needle tracks. First was the flu shot, then many other unnecessary elements of prevented disease inducing shots. Will I make friends? Are they dirty? Do they reek with germs? However, through my running thoughts I notice, the stars and the moon that glistened ever so brightly through my caged window made me relax. Different breaths I took in the abyss darkness of my room made me begin to flutter my eyes close. Turning over to my left side, growing annoyed at the sound and feel of plastic crumpling against my sides, I began to fall into deep sleep.

__

It wasn’t always like this. After my mum died when I was fourteen, I fell sick. It was weird. Michael told me that my skin was hot to the touch, and I kept drowning in my own phlegm when I coughed. Sooner or later, we came to find out that it was an extreme case of typhoid fever and I was heading close to the end road of death. Unfortunately, I did not die. Afterwards, my dad began to transform into this other human being, becoming afraid of everything to touch. Becoming overprotective of me and Michael, wishing us to be more careful with certain things, which actually meant everything we come by. 

__

•••

__

“Don’t touch anyone, every five minutes I want you to use the bottle of hand sanitizer I gave you. Let someone else open the doors and have this key to open whatever locker.” Jim, my dad, had wearily explained to me while he placed the shining- newly polished key into the palm of my hand. “I love you Paul. Me and your brother will be here waiting for you.”

__

“I love you too dad.”

__

He opened the door for me with gloved hands, paling up as the wind blew against his skin. It seemed as if he was somewhat holding his breath, wishing not to let any of the free air invade his lungs. I took one last look at him, and smiled a bit before glancing up at Michael who sat at the bottom of the just-mopped stairs. I waved at him. _He waved back._

__

After rubbing my hands for eighth time with sanitizer, I stopped in front of the double doors of my school. Eyes widened and skin bristling from the finger prints of other hands imprinted on the handles of the doors. With a churn of my stomach, a knot began to form in my throat as I began to hyperventilate. Okay, so it turns out that I can’t do this. Oh my God. I glanced over at the bird shit that was splatted on the ground beside me, then there was the chatters of different kids behind me, with their musty breaths flooding the cleansed atmosphere around me. I turnt around away from the door, trying to catch my breath while trying to find a corner that did not look so fucking dirty. Which was simply impossible, God when was the last time this school has ever been cleaned? I took out my hand sanitizer, squirting it in my palm for the ninth time before rubbing my hands together aggressively, trailing my palm up my wrists and forearm as well.

__

There’s no fucking way I’m going in there. Maybe I could wait outside with the kids, but that would mean that I’d have to deal with some type of airborne illness which is the worse type of illness. I can’t do this. What if I go home now, and tell dad that it was too much? He would completely understand, and comfort me then let me bathe in the bathtub for hours to erase every germ I’ve contaminated. Yes, that’s it. That would help, and everything would be fine, the board of education would also come to terms with that. Maybe I could do homeschooling afterwards!

Something warm came down on my shoulder.

“Hey are you okay?”

I remembered my dad telling me to not let anyone touch me. First rule broken, congratulations Paul.

__

I froze, my eyes widening and my throat burning with throw up. _Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no_. I began to hyperventilate even more, and slowly turnt around to the person who’s hand was on my shoulder. He looked thin, high cheekbones, dark eyes but they were good natured just by one glance at him and he had this thick dark brown hair. I must have resembled a ghost because his eyes widened, and his expression became more fearful.

__

“You’re really pale. Are you sick or something?” 

__

His breath, smelt like mints but it was still his breath, was all over my face. I shuddered, and clasped my hand over my mouth as I hiccuped, becoming riddled with nausea which was enough to have me bent halfway over as I began to heave. The young stranger boy took a step back, and began to head over towards the door while his hand transitioned to my backside. It seemed as if each touch made me sicker, and that definitely was not good. He must have been the king of sickness.

__

“Let’s take you inside mate. You look new, I haven’t seen you before.” He began to talk to me, opening the door for me and carefully led me inside of the building which seemed warmer. Which meant it was filled to the brim with wandering germs. Oh God. “A new student sick on the first day and they still send him to school? This school is shit. I’m George by the way.” George continued, looking over at me as I slugged beside him. We walked over towards this area called the main office, and he told me to sit down on the chair.

__

Weird, they didn’t have plastic wrappings on their chairs. I sat down, and an unpleasant shiver ran up my spine which caused my skin to prickle. George started at me for a bit until he sat down next to me, eyes staring me over curiously as if I was a ghost.

__

The nausea began to fade a bit, which was weird, is he sucking the sickness out of me? I sat up straight forward and continued to cover my mouth, having my other arm wrapped around my stomach in a self-comforting gesture. “M-My name is James,” I stuttered, my voice was unusually confident unlike my mindset.

__

“You look like a Paul.”

__

“That’s my middle name, you can call me Paul though.”

__

George smiled, his eyes friendly with lingering concern that was still there. After a second, he pressed his palm against my forehead which made a squeak of uncomfortableness leave through my lips. A blush swooned my cheeks from the noise I just made, “You don’t feel hot or have a fever or something. Maybe you’re just overwhelmed.”

__

I jerked away from him. He kept breathing in my face, I don’t even think he notices.“I- um I’m not usually around people.”

__

“What do you mean?”

__

“I don’t have friends. My dad said they’re dirty. Everyone and everything’s dirty, he’s right you know. This place is fucking disgusting. How do you live here?” 

__

George started at me startled for a bit, but then he seemed to have grown defensive. “Paul, I don’t live in a bloody school.” 

__

“I- what? You live in a house too?”

__

George began to laugh, “God son, everyone lives in a house. I mean teachers may live in a school, never seen one leave here in my life.”

__

“Don’t you think- don’t you think it’s dirty?” I asked, not even knowing how stupid I sounded at the moment. I just never talked to someone, I never had a friend or anything at all. “Like the school? It’s so dirty you want to throw up?”

_“Yeah, this place ain’t glamorous Paul. Nothing is. That’s why everyone hates this place, you sit, learn shit that you don’t need to learn, then leave.” George explained, kicking his leg over the other so he could cross them. I cringed at the bottom half of his shoe, seeing the dirt on it before glancing away._

__

“What about the kids?” I asked, taking out my hand sanitizer again before squirting it on my palm. George held out his hand too, silently asking for a drop of hand sanitizer which shocked me slightly, but I poured some on his hand too.

__

“Uh, dunno most of em are clean and the teddy boys are the dirty wannabe Elvis freaks. I mean Elvis is cool and all, but they make him so corny it’s annoying.”

__

“Who’s Elvis?”

_George paused with his eyes slightly widened, before exhaling and laughing in somewhat exhaustion. “Yeah Paul, I got to get you in on the field. Have you’ve been living under a rock?”_

_I looked down in embarrassment. “I’m sorry- I just don’t know who anyone is really. The radio I have at home is never touched, it has too many dust to get off and my dad doesn’t want any of us to touch it.” _

_“It’s alright Paul.”_

•••

__

__

__


	2. Chapter 2

“Got you your schedule huh?” George handed memy schedule, after an awkward exchange with the counselor which held us up for ten minutes.

I just couldn’t take something off of someone else’s hands, that was something else my dad told me whenever we had to go out and get food. The man would get such weird looks for wearing gloves out in public, basically quarantining himself from everyone else. We’d make sure the meat was cleaned from whatever was in it, which made the taste sour from the over-washing. Food was food though.

George threw an arm around my shoulder as we walked in the empty halls towards the cafeteria, the contact of the skin of his forearm pressing against my neck made me jerk forward with a slight gasp. Why was his skin so warm? So friendly? Why is he so patient with me and my spasms, God I must be a rude git to him. Jerking away from such friendly touches as if he has a disease. What if he does? What would happen to me? I’d get sick again and then my dad would become even more protective of me than he already is. I shivered, and ducked my head in embarrassment after seeing the confused look he passed at me.

“I’m sorry, I- fuck I’m-” I began to stammer, face burning and my fist crumpling my schedule up against my chest.

“Calm down Paul, obviously you have something going on in that head of yours. I’ll help you about mate.” George smiled at me, he fucking smiled at me. The friendly glisten in his eyes and the genuine smile made my eyes widen in such astonishment. Holy shit, does this mean what I think it means?

“Are we friends now?” I asked, mentally daring myself for a few minutes. George nodded, and it was rather an excited nod, like a nod a seven year old kid would do if offered ice cream.

“Yeah, most definitely.” He replied happily, which made my stomach flutter with sudden butterflies of excitement. I never had a friend before.

I chose to stand instead of sit at one of the cafeteria tables, the infamous feeling of nausea hit me as kids filed inside of the big room. Chattering, coughing, laughing and screaming ever so early in the morning. My body trembled with uneasiness, and I felt my heart thump violently in my eardrums. The touch of George’s hand on mine sent another shockwave of irrational thoughts through my head, but I tried to calm myself down vigorously because he was my friend now. There’s nothing to be paranoid about.

“Hey, hey, hey. Come sit next to me. I’ll let you sit on my umm shirt! My shirt.” George began to quickly unbutton the shirt he was wearing, revealing the white short sleeve top he was wearing under it before folding it next to him. “There we go.”

“Thanks.” I murmured, sitting down next to him. I refused to put my elbows and forearm on the table like he’s doing. I also refused to press my chest against it too. “Is there a stomach bug or a flu going around?”

“Huh? Oh no. Not yet.”

“Then why is that person coughing?” I pointed over towards the group of men, of older boy’s who was wearing leather and holding a stick that had smoke coming out of the end of it. One boy with auburn hair was coughing, and laughing at the same time before throwing a single punch at one of his friends who seemed to be wearing shades. I scrunched my nose up in disgust. The boy did not even cover his mouth with his arm as he coughed, which had made him think about the airborne illnesses he may contract from that single boy.

George glanced over towards them, his normally calm face turning into a deeply annoyed expression. “Fucking teddy boys. They’re just smoking cigarettes, and the one that’s coughing is John Lennon.”

“You don’t like him?”

“Oh, John is okay, he talks to everyone but he normally hangs around with teddy boys for some reason. He’s a nice chap though, I play music with him.” George seemed to have caught John’s eye, because the other boy extended his hand to wave over at us and George waved back with that friendly smile.

A shrilling loud noise hurt my eardrums from up above, and it seemed as if it spontaneously told the kids to move out towards the doors. The thing is that they were still chattering while walking, what kind of multitasking is that? George took a glance at my schedule, carefully taking it out of my hands which I let him do with a strange irking sensation from how he just had his hands on the dirty table and now he’s touching my paper. George peeled his eyes up at me, smiling bashfully as he handed the paper back. “Your first class is health, ironically eh? I’ll show you to the classroom.” He told me, which caused a bit of tension to leave out of my aching limbs. Health? That didn’t sound bad at all, I could go for a health class right about now. Or a doctor’s appointment.

•••

**Paul.**

**Paul.**

**Paul.**

What?

**Isn’t this uncomfortable?**

Yes. I’m scared. Every single kid is staring at me.

**That’s because the teacher is announcing you to the class.**

I blinked, and glanced up at my teacher while hugging myself tightly. Another hand was on my shoulder, and it was the teacher’s hand. He was also still talking. Voice old and dry, deep, fragile. Staring intently, I saw a crumb at the corner of his mouth from possibly a cake he was eating — which confirmed the dingy smell of cake residue in his breath. What’s weird is that I doubt anyone else could see it, but it was just so..._there_. So visible, and it bothered me. I scratched at the back of my arm, digging my nails into my skin as I continued to stare at his mouth. Fuck, how could anyone not see that? It was a crumb. A big fucking _crumb_.

I couldn’t take it anymore.

“Sir! You have a crumb on the side your mouth, like right there.” I quipped as I reached up, before quickly retracting my hand as he ran the tip of his thumb along the side of his mouth to wipe most of it off. There was still some right there.

“Oh my, you’re right. I didn’t even see that.” He chuckled, along with the mischievous and mocking giggles of the students in the classroom. “Thank you, now take a seat next to Bethany there so we could get started.”

**Some of it is still there.**

I squeezed my arm, threatening my skin to draw blood from how deep my nails penetrated the layers of skin. I began to walk towards the vacant desk and swallow down the forming knot in my throat, it looked rusty. There was gum sticking to the fucking side of it. Just by the sight I could already tell that someone threw up on this particular desk a few years ago. Everyone’s eyes are on me, I can feel it. If I could just sit down here, and relax then maybe I can get through this.

“Is something wrong Mister Mccartney?” The teacher asked, his voice was old and tired.

A rattle of venomous anxiety stroked against my nervous system. “This- the desk is too dirty, I- I might get sick here.” I let out a pathetic sound, breathing through my nose as my body trembled. I wish George was here, I wish I could go home, I wish my mother was here. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck what am I going to do?

“Hey kid, every desk is dirty. This isn’t a castle y’know.” Bethany giggled, before turning over to her two other girl friends to laugh about me.

The rest of the class laughed at her statement. The burning feeling of embarrassment slithered down my backside, and my fists crumbled together tightly in self-resentment. “I can’t sit here sir.” I said weakly, while pulling at every nerve in my body to remain calm.

The teacher sighed, hand raising up to cup the side of his own cheek before running it down his face exhaustedly, “That’s the last seat we have left. Paul we don’t have time for this, either sit down or I have to send you out on your first day here.”

“Oooo.”

I rolled my eyes.

•••

Tapping my foot against the hardwood floor, I held myself with my arms, sitting upwards in the seat in the room they called; in school suspension. As I stared at my lap, which had seem blurred with tears of embarrassment — I concluded that today was absolutely not how I was expecting it. I made a friend at least, but I wasn’t too keen on ‘disrespecting’ my health teacher. It’s just something about sitting in that rusted desk, while all the other desks seemed not as bad but I still wouldn’t of had sat down in it. Maybe there is something wrong with me. Why is it so conflicting? Why do I feel like this all of the time? When I was younger, I remember I would be able to open the door on my own and lay in the grass with my mom to look up at the clouds. Chase squirrels, capture bugs and butterflies.

I blinked, feeling a hot tear run down my cheek which left me to wipe it away with my forearm. I’m so ready to take a bath and forget about this whole day, but unfortunately I’d have to return to this germ filled prison cell for the rest of my life. Suddenly I felt a hot whisk of breath hit my face, which sent shivers of unpleasantness down my spine as I looked up.“Hey.” John greeted me, hovering over me with his hands in his black drainpipe trouser pockets. “Haven’t seen you before. Also it’s okay to cry when you’re in this building filled with middle aged blokes.”

I simply stared.

“You’ve got big eyes.” John said, and it was so casually like it was something anyone would say to someone they’ve never met. “How do you get detention on your first day? I just got in here with mine, fucking teachers taking the piss out of me.”

No response.

“Don’t be rude, c’mon I’m friends with everyone here. You can trust me.”

“I uh- I’m sorry.” I tilted my head back away from him, trying to provide as much distance as I could. Yet John took another prideful lurch forward, so that our breaths were mingled which made my mind spiral out of control. “I’m a bit of a freak and I stay at home so I don’t know what to say really.”

“Seen you with my mate George.” John said, backing up to plop down next to me and throw his arms around my shoulder,which had made me stiffen up a bit. I squirmed in my seating, placing both of my hands on my lap to scratch at my clothed thighs. “How old are you?”

“Sixteen.” I softly answered, not making eye contact with him as he nonchalantly fiddled his fingers through my hair. I felt so disgusted with everything right now, now not only do I have to take a shower and a bath, I have to wash my hair too? Oh brother.

“I’m turning eighteen in October, my aunt Mimi may throw a party for me. You’re automatically invited because you remind me of a bird.”

“Oh.”

“I’m just kidding.” John laughed, and I must admit it wasn’t a bad sound to listen to. I let my lips somewhat twitch a bit at how genuinely contagious it was, but that was all I allowed them to do. “You don’t talk much.”

“Airborne illnesses will get to me if I talk too much.”

“What’s that?” John asked, furrowing his eyebrows as he crossed his legs and sat back in a leisure-like position.

I glanced over at him slightly shocked, but nevertheless I began to explain exactly what my dad told me. “Well it’s um- when someone coughs for example, the germs and infected fluids that come out of their mouths or nose, depending on if they sneeze. Also depending on if they covered their mouth or not, someone else could most likely catch it. There’s plenty of diseases that spread because of airborne illnesses, like influenza, the black death, tuberculosis, valley fever. There’s a lot more though.”

“Half of those you won’t contract, unless you have a vaccination. At the end you just have to wash your hands.” John chuckled, reaching into his leather jacket to pull out a box of what seemed to be cigarettes. “Whoever gets tuberculosis anymore?”

I blinked realizing he had some sort of point in his words. It left me confused because my dad usually never left things out like that when he told me and Mike this stuff. I turnt my body towards him, the most boldest mood I’ve made all day, “But still, you can get influenza by being around someone who has the flu. Whether or not if you get a flu shot.” I said, tilting my head.

John amusedly glanced at me as he lit up his cigarette, “I guess you’re right. Just don’t be around them then. Or here’s something better, wash your hands at the end of the day and ninety-nine percent of those germs will be gone.”

“My dad says wear gloves so you won’t have to do that all the time, and when you’re picking something up you could use a tissue.” I argued, holding my ground as I crossed my arms stubbornly.

“My aunt said that’s bullshit.” John took a drag, before exhaling the smoke from in between his lips. “Besides, when you take the bloody gloves off you’re touching the germs again. Germs are everywhere too. There’s nothing we can do about it, it’s simply impossible to get rid of them.”

“The bacteria makes you sick! That’s not a good thing!” I began to shout, which caused even me, myself to grow shocked. I never yelled.

“Okay, listen.” John sat up, taking another drag before tapping the cigarette ash onto the floor. “Some bacteria we need for our immune system to carry its own weight, that’s what it’s there for. Even if we go get sick, our immune system makes us feel like shit as a defense mechanism which means our T cells our fighting the bad vermin’s in our blood stream. Keeping your body away from having your immune system become immune to different illnesses is bad mate, because sooner or later you’ll catch a illness that you aren’t prepared for and you’ll die. Our immune system is there to do the job of killing off germs and sicknesses, not us.”

“Either way people still die though. Like- like cancer.” I shortly said, after letting his words sink in.

“Cancer isn’t contagious love.”

“Oh.” I felt unexplainably dumbfounded. Why hasn’t my father been telling me this?

“Listen let’s have a bet.” John took another drag, andexhaled the smoke leisurely which made it seem tempting. Although I may have been proven wrong, I’m pretty sure that I’m right about cigarettes giving your body irreversible damage. “I place my hand on that baby cheek of yours, and if you get sick later tonight I’ll give you fifteen quid.”

My eyes widened. Money? For this great risk of a bet? I don’t know if I could do it. Although it’s very tempting, but maybe I should just try it out to see what happens. To test his theory.

“And if you don’t get sick,” John continued, raking his eyes over my body which made me slightly blush in self-consciousness. “You got to join my band.”

“Huh? A band?”

“Yep.”

“What’s- what’s that?”

John laughed again, ruffling my dark hair which made me scowl slightly in frustration. I fixed it as he took another drag of his cigarette, “You don’t know what a band is son? My God where have you been?”

“At home.”

“Your home’s a rock.” John lowly chuckled, before leaning closer to me which caused me self consciously back away from him. “My name’s John Lennon, what’s yours?”

“Paul Mccartney.” I confidently answered, folding my hands together as his eyes, his brown eyes stared deeply into mine. I wonder what he’s looking for, he seems to be so concentrated on my face for some reason. Was there a crumb? There couldn’t be. I refused to have a dirty crumb on my face. “You’ve got a lovely face Macca.” John began to laugh again, which caused my expression to contort into a confused one.

“Who’s Macca?”

“You silly. Mccartney is too royal for me, sounds like a knight or some other professional shit.”

I wonder if he’s my friend now too, which was kind of weird since I already had George as my friend. Maybe I should just not ask. I directed my vision away from him and glanced up at the clock for a mere second, until I felt a warm hand slide down the side of my face. I jumped in my seat, muscles restricting as I let out a surprised shriek which was followed up with John’s laugh. “Now, let’s see if you’ll get sick by the end of this day Macca.”

“If I do then I’ll get you sick.” I growled, while curling my hands into fists.

John laughed once again, taking another drag from his cigarette. “_Deal Macca, deal_.”

•••


	3. Chapter 3

Okay, walking through the doubled doors wasn't as hard as I'd thought it would be. After my conversation with John earlier, I began to feel more at peace with my particular surroundings. It came to a surprise for me that I hadn't sneezed at all ever since school ended. The sudden feeling of John's warm palm sliding down my face, possibly infecting me with every last germ he could summon up made a tingle whelm inside of me. I gripped the straps of my book bag as a blush straddled onto my cheeks, eyes shyly gazing down at my shoes as I strolled towards the front of the school. John and George are my friends now. I actually know what it's like to have friends! Hopefully dad would be just as excited as I am about this.

I may or may not join John's band, and I could be closer with him. Maybe a best friend. The thought of seeing his warm smile, those glistening teeth and that auburn hair which probably had some dirty dandruff in it. I wonder what it'd be like if I ran my fingers through it, rinsing out all the dirt with shampoo and luke warm water. At this moment, all of the negative thoughts in my head began to decrease and a smile stretched across my face.

A familiar shining clean, dark blue Mini Cooper came parked up against the curb in front of the school. The sun beamed down on it, as a few dozen kids gathered around it to gawk at its cleanliness. I could tell that my dad drove here, and I bet he was worried sick about me. As he stepped out of the car, ready to rush over to me — it seemed as if on cue George slung his arm around my shoulder which caused my dad to pause abruptly. "How was your day at school? Heard ya got detention because you was too scared to sit at the desk. I'll bring an extra jacket for you to place it down on for tomorrow so you won't have to get in trouble."

"Uh- yeah George, thanks." I quivered in his arm, removing myself from his arm as my dad stared over in sheer horror at us. "I-I got to go, my um dad's here." I gave him a quick smile, in which he politely returned, before rushing over towards my dad.

"Dirty fucking muck." I heard him mumble aggressively as he opened the door for me, I noticed the door handle had some weird plastic around it. After reluctantly climbing into the car, he closed the door rather harshly before getting into the driver's side. "Paul I deliberately told you, not to let anyone touch you. God you could be sick with an underlying disease right now and you wouldn't even know it."

Within a few short silent seconds of me lowering my head in shame, I lifted it up and smiled thoughtfully as I remembered what John had told me. "Dad guess what? We don't have to worry about that becau-"

He interrupted me by shoving a gallon of hand sanitizer in my face, which caused me to exhale. I squirted the sanitizer into my hand before rubbing it along my skin profusely before continuing, "Dad I have to tell you something."

I watched as he sighed in equal frustration, and weariness as he began to pull off into the road. After a short few seconds, driving the route towards the neighborhood we live in. Which means Michael must have got off of school earlier than me— dad began to firmly speak, "Go on with it Paul."

“Well um I know it’s not what you wanted- but I made two friends! They’re not really bad!” I smiled, thinking about George and John which made a giddy feeling run through my bloodstream. “One’s name is George and he’s really nice. Another one is named John, he’s nice too and he told me something about germs. Like how you have to vaccinated to catch one of them, and if I ever catch influenza then I was around a person who caught it. He also has this thing called a band, and-”

The car came to an abrupt halt in front of our house, and with a slam of his palm to the steering wheel, he shouted.“No!”

I froze, with my eyebrows furrowed and my smile dropping dramatically. “Dad?”

“No, Paul! They’re telling you lies. Lies. Lies. Lies.”

“How do you know?”

“Don’t fucking question me.” His voice rumbled, which caused me to somewhat feel hurt by how suddenly cold he’s being towards me. “When we get inside you’re going in the bath.”

I clenched my fist, deepening my voice as I felt a rush of bold anger rush through my bloodstream. After taking a deep breath, I said —_ “No.”_

Jim made a curt grunting noise, and sat there for a few seconds staring at nothingness. Afterwards he opened the door, getting out of the car stiffly, before closing the door casually. I watched as he went over to my side and opened the door calmly, which caused my heart to beat quickly into my ears. What is he doing? I looked up at him as he extended his broached hand out towards me. I jerked my arm away as he began to grasp it, “Hey what are you doing? I said no!” I began to squirm around as he grabbed ahold of my forearm with a tight grip. That’s when I looked up and saw the eerie vacant expression on his face as he used another hand to unbuckle my seatbelt, that’s what startled me the most and it made me figure out what he was doing.

“No! Let me go!” I began to scream as he ripped me out of the car, holding me up by my arm and basically dragged me across the dirty ground towards the house. I continued to scream, twisting my arm to get out of his deathly grip which got tighter each time I struggled.

I unlatched from his grip, ready to run the other way but that’s when he whisked around and grabbed me by the back of my shirt. Using some kind of inhuman strength to lift me up off of the ground and latch onto the upper half of my body as I kicked my legs around. “Let me fucking go!” I cried out, while struggling profusely which made my shirt slightly crumple up to expose my skin to the outside air. My heart was racing, and I truly was terrified at what was unfolding or what was going to happen to me. I’ve never seen him like this, and I don’t want to see or witness anymore of it.

“You’re going in the bath to wash that dirt off of you!” He yelled as he pried me up to the door, while I continued to struggle and spaz in his arms. As he opened the door, he threw me down on the floor and closed it quickly before locking it. I recovered quickly, crawling over towards the door with my eyes wide and body trembling. It was either my mind that tricked me to slow me down, or I did feel hands wrap around the ankles of my legs to pull me down the hallway. “Come here!” My dad yelled, dragging me down the hallway towards the bathroom.

“Stop it! Mike help!” I screamed, trying to grab onto anything as I felt my body get dragged across the floor. My hands slapped down on the ground, nails trailing the floor as I screamed out for help. Michael did come out of the kitchen, eyes widening at the scene of our father dragging me across the floor like I was a rag doll. “What are you doing?!” Michael panicked, as he chased us towards the bathroom.

I heard water running, and then I felt myself getting lifted up which caused all the blood in my body to drain out. I really didn’t remember much that happened afterwards, the water was ice cold and my father held me down in it as I thrashed around from the coldness, to me giving up.Why did I even try to fight him on this? He was just trying to help me from getting sick and I argued, I deserved this. Plus cold baths help get rid of fevers and I’m pretty sure I had a big ass fever. Or maybe I was just hot. Shivering violently, with my teeth chattering I began to bathe myself — stripping my wet clothes off and folding them on the toilet lid. I couldn’t help but to cry. Why? This was good for me right? I won’t get sick, and I’m washing all of the dirt John probably gave to me. _Probably. _

God I wish mom was still here, maybe she’d know what to do in times like these. When dad would just get too irrational, and then she’d most likely comfort me. 

I stood staring resentfully at my father scrubbing the direct path on the floor in which he dragged me in the house. My fists were clenched, and water from the bath was still dripping off from the tips of my hair onto my white oversized jumper. Suddenly, I didn’t feel so afraid of germs anymore after that — I did not feel the need to be careful and obey my father’s rules. After today, and what I’ve learned, I don’t care at all anymore.

•••

“Paul!” George ran up to me, out of breath with two jackets in his hand. “Hey! I got you this whole I was out with my father yesterday. ” A smile was plastered with on his face as he held out a jacket to me. It was leather black, something that I’ve seen before but I never thought I would get the chance to wear it. I gracefully took it, and put it on to feel the warmth from the inside of it.

“Thanks Georgie.” I smiled, as he excitedly put on his leather jacket. Suddenly I had a dangerous thought enter my head, and it was me approaching the boy — wrapping my arms around him in a bone crushing hug. George was obviously tensed, and he hugged me back quickly before pulling away with a light blush on his cheeks. “Uh Paul- we um- here we can’t hug so randomly like that. People would think we’re queers and that’s illegal y’know?”

“What are queers?”

“Something you already look like.” Another boy cut in, a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth, and I didn’t recognize him at all but he was short to us. George smiled at him and shoved him playfully, but I was still very confused to who this boy was.

“Hey Ritchie!”

“Hey Geo, who’s this lad?”

“This is my mate Paul, he was here yesterday but you decided to ditch school.” George slung an arm around my neck as he pulled me in close to them. This time, I didn’t react in a negative way which shocked me to the fullest because yesterday just by one’s presence I was gagging on air. I felt the subsided anger build up, and it made me clench my jaw. How could my dad lie to me like this?

“I was sick!” Ritchie or Richard began to pull up excuses, and just from the word sick leaving his mouth, I couldn’t help but to recoil a bit.

“Yeah, you said that on the first day.”

“Anyway, hey Paul. My name’s Richard, but you could call me Ringo or Ritchie.” The shorter man’s blue eyes pierced into mine, and I couldn’t help but to get sort of lost in the ocean-like waves that glistened whenever the sun dragged its way through the clouds.

“He’s a wannabe teddy boy.” George joked, which caused Ringo to playfully punch his side.

“Sod off.”

It was crazy at how my eyes just captured John’s figure passing by us, he had shades on and his thin lips were pulled into a firm line. I pretended not to notice at how upset he looked and broke away from the two other boys, rushing over towards him with a happy gleam on my face. “John! Guess what? I didn’t get sick.”

The older man stopped, and turnt his body in my direction. He whisked off his shades and took a lingering glance at me, which made me slightly gasp at how red his eyes were — it seemed as if he’d been crying. “Band practice is after school.” He muttered, turning back around to continue his walking towards the group of loud leather jackets with, from what I’m guessing, the teddy boy haircuts. “Also,” John paused again and turnt around to lower the glasses down to the bride of his nose. “You look rather cute in that jacket.”

My eyes slightly widened at the last sentence, and a blush smothered my cheeks as I watched him walk again. What? Cute? Did he just say I look-

**...What?**

I wanted to ask him what he meant but he was already long too gone. After standing there pondering for a few seconds, George and Ringo called me back over towards them. George had a desolate look on his face as he looked over at John, and Ringo only looked at John’s direction uneasily. It was a seasoned silence surrounding us as we watched the other man isolate himself from his teddy pals, who were asking him if he was okay.

“What happened to him?” I couldn’t help but ask, and George only made a ‘pft’ noise, shaking his head shamefully.

“His mum, got hit by a car she did. She died a little later last night. I tried to talk to him but he changes the subject. Poor chap,” Ringo said, as George just looked down at the ground. My face transitioned to a sad one as I reminisced about the death of my mother, and how shook up the family was.

“Julia didn’t deserve that. She would help me with my homework every once in awhile, she was so sweet.” George murmured, eyes becoming a little glossy as he thought back to how she would bake him and John cookies whenever he would come over. He glanced up at the sky in angst, ignoring the prodding tears forming in his eyes which made me sigh in melancholy, glancing back at John.

All the kids began to crowd up inside again like yesterday, and we were one of the first people in there. Well, hopefully everything would end up fine from this point on and maybe I could talk to John after school.

•••


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul realizes something

John bluntly placed his tray of food down next to me, and plotted down on his bottom. Me and George along with Ringo watched as he placed his forehead against his forearms, sharing no type of words with us. I blinked, staring at him with eyes full of pity before glancing over at George who had the same look of not-knowing-what-to-do on his face. Ringo cleared his throat and glanced back at the teddy boy clan in the back of the cafeteria, now he sees why John came over here because they were rowdier than usual. George scrunched his nose up, "Each year the food's shit."

"Tell me about it." Ringo quickly agreed to fill up the silent void that washed over the three once a John sat down. I smiled and glanced down at my tray, seeing that we all have the same food choices. "Paul if you're ever going to be scared of one thing, it should be the bloody food." Ringo joked, which made everyone laugh except John who only lifted his head up to take a bite out the bread.

"Oh I just got reminded, Paul I need to show you who Elvis is." George spoke up, a pleasant smile on his face as he eyed me.

"Paul doesn't know who Elvis is?" Ringo asked, astounded by my nonchalance towards music. I shyly shrugged and squeezed my bread, before lifting it up to my mouth. "How come you don't know who Elvis is?"

"I- I don't listen to music really." I stuttered, nervously rubbing my palm against my thigh as I nibbled on the bread. "My dad doesn't let me touch the radio."

"I- why not?" George asked, genuinely confused at my statement which caused me to slightly shift into uncomfortableness.

"It's too dirty." I finally answered,

From the side of me I heard John muffle a short laugh as he chewed on his bread, I thought he was not even paying attention to our conversation because he was too enveloped with drawing something on the back of a receipt. "Macca's dad is a clean little old man, huh?" John glanced over at me with a sad but humorous gaze, which caused the slight tension on George and Ringo's face to fade. George leaned his upper half across the table, and began to speak. "Right, so music is the best thing out there right about now. If you do it then boom you land a record deal, and you get famous if you're good enough. That's if you're good or not, but if you're good then you got it all son. The birds, the money, the cars and the houses. You can have security and you'll have people do whatever you want them to do. You could also buy whatever you want."

I thought about it, my mind converting the words he said to me into a much more simpler thought. I could have whatever I want if I do music? Whatever I so desire? The only thing that came to me is that I'd have to be good at it to get to that part. I'm pretty sure my dad wouldn't let me go anywhere near music, what if it's dirty? God Paul everything doesn't have to be dirty, snap out of it. Or maybe I should just ask. "Well- is it dirty?"

George only smiled brightly as Ringo and John shared snickers that made me blush, "Some parts."

"John, why aren't you at our table?" Everyone looked up to see a guy in shades, with a toothpick in his mouth. He was wearing all black, leather and what-not, — I didn't really pay attention but all I knew is that he looked intimidating. George made some sort of growling noise, and Ringo immediately scooted closer to George as if he was protecting him.

"Its a bloody fucking circus that's why." John dismissively said, going back to drawing on his receipt. "Acting like clowns over there, it gets annoying it does."

"They're all gone now."

"Mm." John grunted, stuffing the last piece of bread he had in his mouth as he scribbled about on his paper.

The man had then retracted his eyes over at George and Ringo, "Good day, Ritchie." He said, reaching over across a George's face to clasp his hands together with Ringo's. George rolled his eyes, crossing his arms as he glared up at the man.

"Hey Stu." Ringo replied, constricting his arm back to his side as he gave the guy a friendly smile. George seethed, but tried desperately not to make it absolutely noticeable. He failed.

"Heya Georgie."

"Fuck off."

John let out a chuckle, looking up from his paper at George who only returned the smile. I realize whenever George is annoyed, he still smiles whenever one of us smiles and it makes me feel a lot more secure around him. George is a very good friend, and I'm glad that I've met him. Stu, which I'm guessing is short for Stuart had then looked over at me and it made me freeze up a bit. Okay, his breath smelt like cigarettes and I'm pretty sure that can cause second-hand lung cancer. "Who's this? I haven't seen him before." Stuart noticed, lowering his sunglasses to catch my eyes.

"This is Paul. He's new."

Stuart grumbled something to himself, and exchanged glances between John along with George who basically clenched his jaw once they locked their eyes together. Afterwards, Stuart looked back at me and leaned in close to my personal space, "You queer or something lad?"

"I- I don't know what that is."

"It means ya dig men, like how men dig women." John casually spoke up with a definition, and smiled at me which caused a blush to spread across my cheeks at the beaming sight of John Lennon smiling.

"Of course you know Lennon." Stuart chuckled, as he placed a hand on his hip.

"Don't try me Stuart." Those words alone sent an anxious shiver down my spine, and it caused me to look over at John whose face was as serious as his words.

"Well are you?"

George sucked his teeth, "He's _not_."

"No, well I don't think I am. What's it to you?" I asked, and for some reason my voice came out a little bit more bolder than I wanted it too. It caused George, John and Ringo to look at me as if I had three heads which made me gulp silently.

"Who do you think you're talking to?" Stuart approached me, jaw hardened and fists clenching which made my eyes widened in slight fear. Wait this wasn't what I thought would happen, it was just a question and I swear I didn't mean for it to come out like how it did. John stood up, and walked over to Stuart to clasp his hand on his shoulder. "Take a breather mate, he didn't mean it in that way. Give him a break." John said, squeezing Stuart's shoulder which made me feel a wave of resentment at the somewhat affectionate touch. What the hell is wrong with me?

"Piss off Stuart.” George spat harshly as John began to guide Stuart back towards his table, I looked down at my shaking hands and took a deep breath. Well, that just happened. Whatever that was. Ringo cleared his throat and looked me in the eye reassuringly, “Don’t mind Stu, he’s just being daft.”

“As always.” George added on, with his lips turnt up in a annoyed frown. “He just disrespected Paul right in front of us, and he doesn’t even know the lad.”

Ringo nodded in silent agreement, before squeezing George tight once he’d wrap his arm around the younger’s shoulder. I watched silently as he comforted George who was still rambling on about Stuart, and began to try to cease the shakiness of my hands. For the next moment, the bell had rung again signifying that lunch was over and I should head over to my last class. Something about the lingering glare in Stuart’s eyes made my gut clench uneasily, but I refused to be paranoid again after being so brave all day. I can do this.

•••

Okay, maybe I can’t do this. Class is over and I supposed to be heading out to the front to go to my dad. I also have to go to the auditorium to meet up with John and his band or Elvis people, whatever that is. What an significant opportunity cost I’ve ran into, what will I benefit from? What will I not benefit from? Me and John are still freshly friends, I really don’t want to mess that up. Especially since he’s still sort of mourning the tragic loss of his mother, and he would need a friend around. Although, he had friends like Stuart and the teddy bears — I mean boys. They could probably keep him company. Yet the problem with that is; I do want to hang out with John and I want to spend as much time as I possibly can with him. George says he plays music with John too, and my dad has met George. Called him a muck under his breath, but he met George still.

I played with the hem of my shirt as I stood in front of the doubled doors that lead into the auditorium, the muffled laughter from the inside resembled John and George’s. Okay, I should be outside and in the car already — my dad may already be out there looking for me. I swallowed hard, feeling the hard knot form in my throat as I remembered what happened yesterday.

_“Let me go!” I twisted my body around, jolting my legs forward as I screamed at the top of my lungs. I felt my dad’s hands tighten around my wrist, dragging me across the floor as Michael tried to pull him off of me._

I did not know is I was hyperventilating until I felt coldness of the air conditioner hit the exposed parts of my skin. Okay Paul, calm down, just calm down and open the door. You’ll explain to him that the teachers needed you for after school, and you won’t have to worry about anything else because he’s understand. It’s about two-thirty, getting back by five would be explainable because there was a lot of fundraiser planning I had to do for the school. Yes that’s it. I forced my breathing to regulate, and the nauseous anxiety began to subside as I opened the door carefully. The laughter stopped briefly as I peeked my head in, glancing over at John standing next to Stuart, who was standing next to George and another guy with blonde hair was sitting in the far right corner of the stage.

“Macca! You made it. A bit late but at least you didn’t wuss out.” John looked incredibly overjoyed to see me, and I noticed it made Stuart growl something under his breath, following up with a incredulous eye roll.Stuart bumped purposely against George, which made the younger stumble back a bit, and approached Pete to lean down and whisper something in his ear. What the hell was his problem? What ever happened at lunch is over with now, and besides I did not even mean for it to come out like that.

“Hi John.” I said shyly, closing the door as he rushed over to me and pulled me into a sudden hug. For some reason, the same disgust I had on the first day came back with a hard wave which made me go rigid in John’s friendly arms. Ew. Ew. Ew. _Ew_. Thankfully, he pulled away from me and stared at me for a couple of seconds before vanishing off back towards the stage. His hand was wrapped around my wrist.

“Alright guys, before we do anything. I’d like to introduce to Paul Mccartney. Some of us knows him already, like George and Stu.” John passed Stuart a firm look, referring to the fight that almost broke out between him and me. Stuart returned the look with aplain middle finger and John only laughed, which was weird because no one else did. After noticing, John rolled his eyes and continued his rather unimportantly announcement — “Paul is going to be apart of our band, but right now he has to get the waves of music. Doesn’t even know who Elvis is.”

“Uncultured swine.” Pete cooly muttered, which made Stuart laugh and playfully nudged his head back with his hand.

I blinked, blushing a bit from embarrassment as I stared down at the floor. God if I knew I was going to be ridiculed for not knowing things, I would have went home. John seemed to have noticed my self-detestation because he squeezed my wrist reassuringly, and pulled me closer to him. Okay, pause. He smells so fucking good. Now that I’m up close to him, and I’ve somehow drowned out all the other words he began to say by just looking at him. John’s not a bad looking boy, his jawline was so inviting to caress. Why was his auburn colored hair presented as such a soft piece of artwork whenever the sun beamed down on it, and plus that lighting it brings out the brown colored eyes that I seemed to be looking into so much. The way his arms were wrapped around my wrists, so firmly and somewhat protectively.

He was muscular too. I could tell just by the way his muscles felt since we’re shoulder to shoulder now. I wonder if he ever fought someone before, and I wonder what he looked like when he was mad.

I began to bite down on my bottom lip, retracting my gaze back to my feet while trying to calm myself down.

Why was my heart beating so fast?

Why is did my breathing seemed to speed up?

Why are my muscles suddenly relaxing, and why do I feel so warm around him?

And what is this weird feeling happening in my underwear?

“Macca? Did you hear what I said?” I blinked up, and glanced over at John who was staring at me intently, a gaze mixed with confusion along with a bit of bashful amusement.

“Huh? No I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”

“He said we’re going to his house to play Elvis records, and you better be listening or else.” Stuart spat, before walking past me and John. I could’ve sworn he bumped into me on purpose, which made me stumble back a bit but John pulled me back towards him. Pete followed closely behind him, passing me a glare before walking along side Stuart. All I’m trying to figure out is what exactly did I do to make them feel insulted by me?

“Anyone who’s acting like a bitch can’t come by the way.” John bluntly said, turning in the direction of Stuart and Pete who were waiting impatiently by the door. “Might as well stay home and knit yourself a clown suit for the circus. I’m not in the mood.” He added on, which made the two growl something under their breaths.

George busted out laughing, and I only giggled to myself. I did not want to let them know I was laughing since I’m already on their bad side for some odd reason. John’s hand seemed to have met mine, without me noticing and he gave it a polite squeeze as the two boys left out of the auditorium, to make a more dramatic effect by slamming the door.

“You cool with coming to my place? I’m sure Aunt Mimi will have it clean enough for you.” John playfully teased, while knocking his shoulder into mine with a smile.

“Yeah,” I smiled and looked at him, before frowning at the sudden thought in my head. “Who’s Aunt Mimi?”

•••

“_I’m_ Aunt Mimi.” She extended her hand for me to shake, which I politely did with a pure smile on my face. I noticed that Mimi was wearing cleaning gloves, and it made me feel a bit more at home with this place. It was clean indeed. Obviously, she wasn’t as clean as my dad because the furniture wasn’t wrapped up in plastic and she allowed George and me to come inside of the home.

“Dinner’s ready?” George asked as he shrugged off his jacket, and hung it up on the jacket rack. John laughed at the question, doing the same with his jacket and it made me go over to them and strip my new leather jacket off as well.

“I’ll call you all down when it is ready.”

“What time is it?” I couldn’t help but ask, remembering that my father must be worried sick about my absence. “My father expects me home about five and- I already didn’t get his permission to go out after school.”

“A quarter to three hun.” Mimi said, before taking off her cleaning gloves. “I’m off to smoke, go have fun boys.”

Okay, that’s good. I have enough time.

“Come on Macca,” John’s hand was wrapped around my wrist again, I liked it when it was holding my hand instead. Maybe it was because George was here too.

“You guys go ahead, I’m gonna make me a sandwich. I’m starving.” George waved us off, marching into the kitchen which left John basically dragging me up the stairs.

Opening the door to a room, he kicked away all the different piles of clothes and objects. I could see a light blush appear on his cheeks as he bent down to pick up a few magazines that were flipped over, and a few piles of tissues. “Uh sorry- rooms a mess really. I don’t clean it for anyone else but special guests, so you should be grateful.” John stammered, as he guided me inside of his room. It smelt good, like him with a side of cigarettes but I didn’t mind that at all really. I stood in front of the closed door, hands folded to my front as I looked around at the different posters of a handsome man with prison clothes. It looks like he was twisting his legs, then there was another man with glasses on and a grey suit.

“That beautiful piece of shit is Elvis you see.” John threw a shoe at the poster as he began to dig in a little box at the corner of his room. I smiled, and glanced over at the poster again while tilting my head to the side. So that’s Elvis. He must be the king of the teddy boys. Or the teddy boys must be his his servant. Either or, I don’t know.

I jumped slightly at the other shoe that was thrown against the wall, and it hit the picture of the guy in glasses. “That one is Buddy Holly.”

I nodded in somewhat understanding, “Oh, you like them?”

“Love em Macca, I _love_ em.” John came up from the box with several records, and tossed them over to me. He had then lifted up a guitar, and placed it down on the floor before shutting the box. “Alright, follow me.” John grunted as he stood up, grasping at one particular record before walking over to his closet.

I followed him carefully, stepping over the trash that was thrown about in the room, not wanting to crush any of them. John opened the closet door, and revealed something that looked like one of those Vinyls my dad threw away. I haven’t seen one in years, and it made me gasp from the sight of it. John noticed my reaction and chuckled, glancing over at me while he set the record down on the Vinyl.

“I had one of those before, I remember. My dad threw it out though because it was too dirty to clean. My mum bought it in the late thirties I believe.” I approached John, hovering over his shoulder to watch as he adjusted it. Once the music started playing, John slowly turnt around to face me and his hand started suddenly caressing my cheek which made me blush.

“You’re so adorable Macca.” He softly muttered, as his eyes seemed to analyze my face which made me shudder from the intensity of his gaze. Unfortunately, he broke away from me with a smile and hounded over to his bed. I gracefully followed him, and sat next to his rather pliant body. He stared up at the ceiling, letting the voice of Elvis take him on a journey with each lyric that was sung.

Reluctantly, I laid down next to him so that our shoulders were pressed together. Along with our thighs, while I did the same thing and it was incredibly easy. His voice was sultry, deep and milky — my body seemed to involuntarily vibrate from the way the bass and guitar filled up the room. It was as if I was floating in a never ending stream of hot liquid ness, the rhythm and the blues of the particular song blocked all my senses. It made me relax in a way I never thought I could. A magical sense of wonderment, a visionary pathway led me to the open doors of how to strum a guitar, the same very guitar John had pulled out. No, no that’s wrong. I’m left handed.The hand started strumming it left handedly. Oh yes, that’s right. G string, D, E and A. All of those come together, it’s all coming back now before I got sick, before my mother died — she taught me this. My dad taught me how to play a trumpet, yes I remember.

I know how to play guitar. I know how to play the trumpet, and- wait. The image began to focus out, which was me it was me! I was grown though, I still had somewhat of a baby face but I had a weird mop top haircut then I was wearing a black and white suit. From what it had looked like. I was playing piano, and John was beside me, along with George and Ringo? We were in front of thousands of screaming fans, singing different songs and putting teenage girls in a trance. What the hell is going on?

The song had then came to an end.

I opened my eyes to see John gazing down at me, a smirk on his face and his hand making invisible circles on my cheek. “Done lost you there son, guess the King took you on that same journey.”

I blushed, “Sorry.”

John just shook his head, and flopped back onto his backside. “Does your mum still listen to music?” He asked, while crossing his arms to the back of his head and staring up at the ceiling. “My mum used to love music, she taught me how to play the banjo.”

“My mum died.”

“Oh..mine too.”

It was silent for awhile, until George opened the door to the room with a plate full of food. “Mimi told me to tell you guys that dinner’s ready.” He said, mouthful of chicken as he approached the little box John had opened earlier and sat down in it. He put his plate of food to the side of him, as he burped. “I heard Elvis up here, did you guys start yet?”

“Just showing him what we’ll be doing.” John replied, quickly recovering from the vulnerable expression he had earlier. I watched as he sat up in the bed, then did the same thing while George picked up John’s guitar and began to strum it.

“My dad is almost done fixing my guitar, then I can play mine.” George said, before reaching over to to grasp at his chicken again to take another bite, then setting it down and playing a tune.

“George here is the best guitar player I’ve met.” John whispered over to me, watching as George played a tune to the Elvis song we were listening to earlier. “Haven’t met a boy who can play a guitar as good as him y’know?” He continued, nudging my arm as he watched.

After a long few seconds of thinking, I began to smirk, “Can I try?”

George stopped playing, “What? You don’t even know who Elvis is, what makes you think you can play guitar Paul?” He laughed, as he stood up and walked over towards me to hand me John’s guitar.

I took it in my hand, and flipped it to my left. John chuckled while he scooted over to the side, watching me closely. “Got it wrong Macca, it’s the other way around.”

“I know.” I densely replied, staring at the guitar to analyze it for a bit. Conjuring up the remembrance that made me realize I’ve done this before, and it hit me as quick as baseball bat. Right, so this what my mum taught me. I began to play a familiar tune that came to me, the last tune I remembered my mum sung to me when I was thirteen. God how all the memories just came flying back with one Elvis song, I never felt so free. “Ooh well I got a girl with a record machine, when it comes to rockin’ she’s the queen.” I began to grow more confident, strumming all the notes while I shifted in my seating.

As I was singing, it seemed as if everything was drowned out. The image in my head was with my Mum strumming the guitar in front me, singing the exact same song that was playing on the radio. I smiled, and glanced over at my father who was standing proudly in the corner with a smile on his face. Michael was playing with his race cars on the living room floor, not paying attention or caring to what was happening at all. At that moment nothing else occurred to me but just playing away at this guitar, and that was literally all. “Get to the top, I’m too tired to rock.” I stopped strumming, thinking that it would be appropriate to just stop here. Taking an exhale, I felt the walls crumble and I was sent back into reality.

John’s mouth was wide open, and his eyes were as wide as saucers.

George’s eyes were just as wide, and he had a spoon of rice stuck in his mouth.

“I- I messed up didn’t I?” I asked, beginning to shake from embarrassment. John finally took in a breath and began to freak out from over excitement which left me in somewhat confusion.

“That was incredible! How did you- I thought- how!? George did you see that!? How he did that one thing you and I tried to do the other week!?” John was basically jumping up and down on his bed, while George was still trying to recover.

“Paul that was amazing!” George smiled, getting up to approach me and John. “You’ll be a good addition to the band!”

I smiled trying to seal the length of it by biting down on my bottom lip. Yet the red coated blush on my cheeks were completely inevitable for me to hide at all, “Thanks.”

“Let’s go down and eat before Mimi has my head.” John bounded off the bed, with George getting up to follow behind him. I looked down at the guitar, smiling ever so widely for a few minutes before getting up to go and follow my new bandmates.

•••


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chap is short because i’m ill & writers block for Amaranthine is beating my ass. i hope you enjoy though!

"I have to head out now. It's almost five." I said, a bit of sadness sheltered in my voice. The last thing I wanted to do was leave, after so much fun with George and John this evening. The hours passed rather quickly, and before I knew it, the time read four twenty five. George put down the cards that went with the board game him and John were playing in the living room. "Do you want me to walk you home Paul?" He asked, while John did the same thing with his cards to look up at me.

A tingle of uneasiness had hit me, as much as I wanted him to do so, I couldn't. My father would kill him, and me if he ever found out that I walked George Harrison over to my house. "No, I can walk by myself really. My dad he's um- he's very strict on that."

"How's your dad so protective of you but he lets you walk home by yourself son?" John bluntly asked, as he lifted himself up to his feet while dusting his trousers off. "I'm walking ya."

"If he does it can I come?" George asked, and from the way he asked, it occurred to me that he was indeed the youngest out of all of us. It reminds me of Michael, and how he must have been doing which encouraged me to want to get home faster.

"No, one at a time for Mister Oldcartney." John laughed, reaching up for his coat on the rack before pulling it on. I grasped mine, and stared down at it wearily. He would ask where I got this from, and he's get rid of it which wouldn't be fair to both me and George. I turnt towards the younger man who was busy adjusting the cards into its little deck.

"George, could you um- watch this for a little bit? My dad would probably get rid of it."

George furrowed his eyebrows, "Fight him then, don't let him keep taking your stuff Paul."

John made a humming noise in agreement, and opened the door, "Mimi! I'm walking Macca home! I'll be back!" He shouted, while stepping out before she could respond back.

"Good day Paul! Hurry back John!"

I waved George goodbye and nervously slung on my jacket before racing off to follow John, closing the door on the way. I walked over towards him, and began to trot obediently by his side with my head slightly lowered. John made a distinct humming noise, and glanced over at me. "What's up with your father?"

Caught off guard by the question, I stopped my movements. "I- Pardon?"

"You heard me, what's wrong with your pa? Why is he so protective over you and cleansed, all that other shit." John said, while he stuffed his hands in his pockets glancing over at me. I blinked for a bit, before continuing my strolling in which he also proceeded to do.

"Well um- it started a bit when my mum died. Then after I got really sick from something, it was probably a typhoid fever." I softly explained, with my eyes shyly avoiding his gaze by gazing down at my shoes. "After that, he started becoming overprotective. He wouldn't let me and Mike go anywhere at all, we have plastic wrap around everything. I sleep in a empty room pretty much, isolated from the world until the board of education forced him to make us attend school. It just got worse from there really- he doesn't want anyone touching me at all, basically he wants me to isolate myself from everyone like I've been doing for years."

John was quiet for awhile, and for a moment I thought I said too much. Maybe it was good to have that off my chest? Or maybe it wasn't. It's not my fault really, my dad can't get mad at me for informing other people about what exactly we do. Plus, John wanted to know so it can't be that bad.

"That's shit, I'm sorry you have to go through that." John suddenly said, while he looked over at me. After a few lingering seconds, he sent me a friendly smile that warmed my heart in a way I thought it could not have been warmed. 

I don't know how much time passed, but walking with John in comfortable silence was uncomfortable at the same time. I had the feeling that he wanted to say something, because I did too. John bumped his shoulder against mine, and it made me turn my head in his direction with a smile that we both exchanged. He was a very beautiful man, one of the most beautiful I've seen. I would tell him that aloud, but my mind is telling me no, although it completely agrees that John is pleasantly beautiful.

"I really enjoyed my time with you Macca, you're a talented git I may say." John suddenly spoke, while he brushed his arm against mine. "You should meet up with us again, and we'll show you around Liverpool."

I blushed a bit, "But wouldn't Stuart be upset? He already does not like me, I don't think he'd want me to hang around you."

John had just softly chuckled, and gently patted my lower backside. "Don't worry about Stu, he's just very hardheaded. He's really nice if you get to know him, he takes pictures and all of that. Not really the typical teddy boy he deems himself to be."

“I haven't seen it yet."

"I know Macca." John replied, before looking around the neighborhood that hadn't yet looked familiar to me. The sun was beginning to set, and it was probably four-thirty now, I felt an uneasy feeling rack my body which made me speed up a bit. "John let's hurry, yeah?"

John nodded and sped up to my side, "I want to meet your pap if that's alright with you."

I gulped and shook my head, "No- I- Maybe sometime later, I don't think he should meet you." I stammered, my face turning a bright red as John smirked in amusement at my dreadful anxiousness.

"When should he?"

"I don't know John, maybe- maybe when he warms up to me and Mike being outside."

John dramatically sighed, and perched his arm around my neck. I immediately squirmed from under his touch, "Why're you so touchy? One of the neighbors could probably tell my dad that you had your arm wrapped around me." I panicked, while he just stared at me with once again, amusement.

"You're just so touchable."

"John!" I gasped as he winged his arm around mine, and blushed almost profusely, while he basically dragged me down the sidewalk.

•••

— Jim Mccartney peered silently out the window, after getting done wiping it. He watched his son Paul was being walked towards his house by another boy, a boy that he did not recognize and a boy he clearly did not want to know more of. Paul stopped in front of the yard, and nodded towards the boy along with saying something to him. Jim obviously couldn't hear it, but afterwards the other boy pulled his son into a hug that made Jim immediately drop his cleaning tools.

After not arriving at the front of the school like he should, agreeing to it ever since the first day, Paul did this. Fucking coming back home near five o'clock with some boy, embracing him like he was a fresh pack of _meat_. Jim expected more from his son, he was already in trouble as soon as he did not see Paul where he expected so see him.

The middle aged man stepped back, throwing his hand over his mouth to keep down his gagging. Jim turnt towards the door, and charged towards it before heading over to the stairs. How dare that mystery boy lay his hands on his son? How dare he even think to approach the Mccartney household? John gagged again, cringing from thinking about the boy's twisted and scum covered hands touching all over his son. As Jim hurried down the stairs, throwing on his gloves — Paul was already entering the household.

•••

— I waved goodbye to John, who waved back before heading out to the opposite direction. As soon as I turned around, my dad was already inches away from me. Backing up against the door, which made it close I took in a deep breath before rambling onwards. "D-Dad the teachers needed me after school and- and I decided to stay, for extra credit? It was a lot of fundraising so it stretched out until five." I watched as his angry expression seemed to have softened, but not all the way. His face was asking me, who the fuck was that boy that walked me home and hugged me in front of the house? I took a deep breath and continued, "The boy that walked me home was a friend of mine dad, that's all."

"No, no, no, no!" Suddenly, he spazzed out and basically backed me up against the door even more. "No Paul! What have I taught you!?"

"He's very nice! I swear! He has an aunt and he said she's just as clean as we are!" I argued, and without even knowing it, his expression had just seemed to grow even more angrier which would have usually scared me.

"Hanging around with peasants Paul?! The peasants that can get you sick?! That could hurt you?!" He yelled in my face, and the fact that he basically called John a peasant made me do the unthinkable. I smacked him across his face, and pushed him away from me before rushing over towards the main corridor. Okay, wow, maybe I should not of had slapped my father across the face just because of my random infatuation with a boy. My point of realizing that was when he grabbed me by the back of my shirt, making a deranged sound of disgust as he pulled me towards the stairwell.

•••


	6. Chapter 6

Keeping my distance from everyone, I walked over towards the table at the very end of the cafeteria. I sat down at the end of the bench, folding my arms and staring down at my polished shoes. Maybe I could face John and George later, but right now? After what unfolded between me and dad last night? I couldn't do it at all. I hiccuped, feeling tears beginning to seep through my eyes. I reached back and grasped at the hood of my jacket, pulling it over my head before pulling on the drawstrings to tighten it around my head. The last thing I expected was to cry at school, this place out of all places.

So what really happened is that dad threw everything I needed out of my bedroom, placing it in the basement while he yelled estranged things at me.Afterwards, he gathered this type of ribbon and tied my wrists up to the bed post as if restraining me, whenever I would try to escape. I waited hours for him to untie me, and enduring him screaming on the phone to the principal of my school, trying to stop me from going back to school. In which, obviously, from the law he failed to do so.

I lifted my head up slightly after feeling an aura of a person standing in front of me. George stared down at me, with his hands in his pockets and his eyes glazed down at me in genuine concern. "I saw you walk in, are you alright?"

I sniffed, and felt a shudder of embarrassment cloud my bodily movements. "No, it was kind of a rough morning." I answered, tightening my folded arms against my body while I avoided his gaze.

George let out an audible sigh, "Yeah? Me too. Parents done got into a bad row." He confessed, while sitting down next to me as I turnt my body forwards.

"It was me and my dad that got into it. John walked me home and my dad just blew up at me." I said, while finally chancing a glance over towards George. His face casted genuine confusion, while he leaned back against the table.

"So he just doesn't fancy people around you?"

"No, not really."

George was silent for awhile, and nodded his head in understanding. "Right, I guess that makes sense."

I felt my nerves suddenly twist, and my bladder began to nag at me since I basically rushed out of the house this morning. "Do you know where the bathroom is?" I asked George, and he just sat up while nodding towards me before getting up.

•••

"When John came back he couldn't stop talking about you." George explained, while smiling at the remembrance of last night when John was apparently pouring on about me.

"Really?" I gently blushed, while looking over at him as he walked down the hallway side by side.

"Yeah, talked my bloody head off." George got silent for a minute, and finally looked over at me. "John's um- me and Rings think he fancies men. It's nothing to tease him about though, we just kind of assume he's into both sexes."

I blinked in confusion, ignoring my shifting bladder as I stopped walking. "What do you mean?"

"Uh I'll tell you at lunch." George said, while motioning his head towards a door that had the word "Men's" printed in black. "There's the bathroom, and all you have to do is just find your way back to the cafeteria which is right down the hallway." He smiled at me, in which I politely returned before walking in the opposite direction he was going.

I hesitated to open the door at first, apparently the bathroom would be the dirtiest part of the school. More specifically the men's bathroom, piss could be everywhere — on the floors, around the toilet seat, the doors amongst everything else. I swallowed down a gulp, pushing open the door and walking in slowly to the group of boys that I did not want to see.

Stuart hopped off the sink, and Pete along with another person drew their attentions over to me. I stood frozen, eyes widened and mouth pressed together in a tight line as the awkward silence continued. Stuart's eyes wandered itself over my trembling figure, before lazily darting back towards Pete who stared at me with a fiery red mischievous glare. "Pass the fag over ya git." Stuart had then spat, holding out his fingers after nudging Pete back into reality.

"What if he snitches?" Pete asked, as he handed the fag over towards Stuart who impatiently tapped his feet.

"Me and Ivan will have his head, ain't that right Ivan?" Stuart answered, puffing smoke over at the guy who assumed was Ivan.

Ivan shrugged, leaning against the wall with his hands occupied in his pockets. "I guess so, or maybe he's just here to use the bathroom?" Ivan quipped smartly, as he glanced over at me with a glimmer of gentle friendliness in his eyes.

I relaxed, and parted my lips to my own avail. "Yeah, I won't tell anyone. I just really have to use the bathroom."

"Wrong bathroom mate, the ladies room is across the hall." Pete remarked, with a smirk on his lips as Stuart laughed while handing the fag back over towards him.

I ignored Pete and Stuart's laughs while I went into the empty stall, searching around it for any type of dry yellow liquid that an asshole decided to leave there. To my surprise it was somewhat clean, aside from the markings of names carved into the walls and markers of dates. I exhaled shakily, unzipping my trousers with a trembling hand while I listened onto the explicit conversations going on outside the stall. Gracefully, before I could pop on a _erection_? They changed the subject. 

"Is John here today?" Ivan somewhat quietly asked the others which made my head perk up slightly.

"Probably late he is, I haven't seen him walking today or anything." Stuart answered,

My muscles relaxed as I released myself into the toilet, closing my eyes and withdrawing a soft sigh. This may sound weird, but peeing really relaxes me in some type of way — maybe it's the fact that I don't have to hold anything or nothing else will nag me in my underwear. Anyway, John's not here? That's kind of upsetting, I was looking forward to meeting up with him today with George. Especially after yesterday, and I also wanted to ask him about whatever George was taking about. Or maybe I shouldn't? I really need to settle this out before doing anything.

As soon as I was finished, I adjusted my trousers and turned around to open up the door. Ivan and Stuart were combing the sides of their hair in front of the mirror while Pete was ranting about someone, their name was Eric Griffins I believe. I wasn't really listening. I walked towards the sink, and whipped my backpack around to dig inside of the front pocket to grasp at my own soap.

Stuart glanced over at me, "There's soap in this buddy, you ain't have to bring one from home." He said, rapping his knuckles against the container of soap. Ivan leant his side against the sink, adjusting his teddy boy hair while he stared at me and Stuart.

"I know but I- my dad told me that I should use the soap from home. It'd get more germs out."

Pete shucked and jived his way over towards me, snatching the soap out of my friend before I could blink. Afterwards, I watched in horror as my soap was tossed over to the other side of the bathroom. I turnt my body towards the same direction, but my collar was being grasped by Pete's hands and his face was almost knocked into mine by the aggressive yank. "You use soap like the rest of us, you're not special Mccartney." Pete spat before letting me go.

As soon as I could fall to the ground from my loss of balance, strong hands caught either side of my arm. I squeaked, as my backside hit Ivan's chest which was seemingly more embarrassing than I could call it. Ivan gently threw me to the side, "You just find anyone to pick on Pete, shits annoying. All he wants to do is wash his hands, hop off his cock mate."

Stuart smiled, giggling into his hand as he stood to the side. "Hop off his cock," He repeated through his giggles, which had made Ivan slightly chuckle.

Pete tightened his fist, and rolled his eyes. "I hate snobs like him, I bet he thinks he's better than everybody."

I was in too much shock to try and defend myself from this one. My soap, my only reminder of confining to cleanliness was thrown across the dirty bathroom and it laid at the corner where I noticed a spider web was being formed. Oh man, I already felt the tears formulating again and this time it wasn't from the conflict with my only parent; it was from anger. "I'm not a snob!" I spat, turning away from the boys and going over towards the door.

After glancing over my shoulder one last time, feeling the heat of anger on my back as Stuart and Pete busted out laughing, I caught the apologetic gaze from Ivan. I only furrowed my eyebrows and continued my way out of the bathroom, not even washing my hands afterwards.

•••

"Paul, maybe you should just take the whole bottle son." My teacher told me, as he patted my hand after I squirted my sixth try of hand sanitizer onto my palm. After the bathroom incident, I was a mess and I couldn't even face anyone touching me afterwards, especially since I haven't washed my hands.

"I'm- I'm sorry this is my last one, I promise." I murmured, with embarrassment climbing up my nerves at the laughter of the students coming from behind me.

While I was in the library, I looked up to see a face that I very much needed to see. John gave me a witty smile, sitting down on the free chair beside me with a book of his own. "I thought I was going to skip today, but Mimi was quick with me." John said, voice low to whisper as he glanced over to the snooping librarian. I giggled, biting down on my bottom lip as I fiddled shyly with my sleeves.

"Okay Macca," John's face turnt serious, and it kind of startled me a bit. "I'm going to scrap with one of my friends after school and I need you to be around with everyone else. Cheer me on you know?" John told me this so casually, like it was just a regular thing to say in a conversation.

I tilted my head, blinking in vast confusion as John stared deadpanned at me. "I'm sorry, what? Why?"

"You're my mate aren't you? Why else would you have to cheer me on?"

"No not that, I- I mean with the scrap. Why?"

John chuckled, leaning his chair back to prop his feet up on the table and cross his arms over his chest. "Because Mccartney, I need to. They've been bothering someone else, and I don't like it."

I narrowed my eyes, observing his casual attitude to this whole situation. "Who is it?" I had then asked, which made his eyes glisten with childlike mischief.

"The little birdie bothering you in the bathroom earlier today, Ivan told me everything and Stuart will be in trouble too for not even doing anything to stop it." John firmly said, as he tilted his head back to look up at the ceiling and leave Paul in a train of thoughts.

"Oh, well..I don't think you should harm him John." I softly said, feeling unsure of myself on whether I actually wanted him to hurt the young man or not. I will admit that he put me through hell today with the bathroom saga, and what I had to go through with unwashed hands.

"Macca, I'd harm anyone that harms you."

_What?_

With that, the thought George provided withered back into my state of mind. I refused to ask John about it though, he may get offended and he might not even want to be friends with me anymore. He'd turn out just like everyone else and say that I'm so snobby, and I think so highly of myself that I basically think he's a queer. Just for being friends with me. Or maybe that's what they all think about me, maybe that's what Pete thinks about me. Which is true, I mean he did think I was snobby.

"John? Do you think I'm snobby?" I couldn't help but to ask, and the question had seemed to make him laugh which was a mixed signal for me. Afterwards, he smiled at me with a twinkle of adoration in his eyes that made me blush. “No Macca, you’re just different. Far from snobby I may say.” John eventually answered, while he sat properly in his chair to get closer to me.

“If you’re dad isn’t doing too much today, do you mind if I take you out somewhere?” John asked, while his eyes gazed into mine which had widened. Was he asking me out or something? What kind of proposal is this?

I forced myself to ask him nonetheless, “Like a date or something? What do you mean?”

John’s face immediately hardened, “No not a date you sap. That’s not what I meant.” He said, with a tinge of anxiousness to his voice as he sat back again.I watched with an apologetic stare, and cringed at my own recklessness. “I’m sorry, I reckon you’re not even like that.”

John uneasily shifted, “Now just because it’s not a date doesn’t mean- you know what? Never mind, forget I said anything. Can you just be there at the fight? Then try to be there for ice cream with the boys after?”

I was once again confused, but I slowly nodded my head just so he wouldn’t feel too pressured. “I don’t know if I could stay for ice cream, my father for real mad the last time I stayed out later than usual.”

John furrowed his eyebrows, “Well what time do you have to be home?”

“Right after school.”

About a few seconds had passed and a light bulb switched on at the top of John’s head. Well from what I’ve seen since his face lit up wildly, the expression on his face seemed almost immediately terrifying. John had then leaned forwards, grasping my forearm to pull me in close enough so that we were breathing in each other’s faces. A shiver was rocked down my spine as John smiled, “We ditch school, and we bring you back here at the end of the day.”

I blinked, and felt adrenaline course through my body. “What if we get in trouble?”

“Oh stop with the what if’s, let’s just do it Paul.” John said, and the freshly pure smile on his face convinced me to just go with whatever he had planned.

Here goes nothing.

•••


	7. Chapter 7

“May I use the bathroom?”

The teacher looked at me skeptically, before walking over towards me and glancing down at my quiz sheet. I could feel my eyes roll without my consent as he finally nodded his head, and stepped to the side as I got up from my seat. “Thank you!” I smiled, before bounding over towards the door and exiting out of the classroom.

While I ran, I couldn’t help but to laugh at the sudden excitement that coursed through my veins. I’m willing to ditch school to hang out with my friends, is this what I’ve been missing? I never seen myself having so much fun, having the air conditioner of the school breeze through my hair as I ran down the hall towards the bathroom, a wide smile on my face as I laughed evilly. Something is telling me that I’m going to be doing this more often.

It all depends on the outcome however.

I opened the door to the bathroom, beaming happily as I witnessedGeorge and John along with Richard crowded up in front of a window.

“Hey Paul, didn’t know John would convince you to do this.” Richard said, giving me a friendly smile while George rushed towards me excitedly.

“Are you feeling better Paul?” George asked, while his brown eyes lit up brightly at the big smile on my face.

“Ninety-nine percent, I’m still a bit upset about the soap thing that happened earlier.” I admitted, while moving my hands behind my back to clasp them together. George, who visibly felt guilty about leaving me alone in the bathroom had then silently apologized with a gentle pat on my arm.

John lifted up the window and took a glance at me, winking over at me with an enormous amount of charm which almost made my knees buckle for some reason. “Told Stu and Pete to wait out in the courtyard. Ready boys?”

“Let’s go Johnny!” Richard said excitedly, and it made John smile as he began to jump down the window. Richard followed closely, doing the same thing while I watched closely and in slight fear from the height of the fall.

George was next, and he jumped down effortlessly while I bent over the window to watch them. It wasn’t a long fall, plus I witnessed that John was catching both Ringo and George as they transcended from the window to the ground below. I could do this, I can’t back out now, this may be my only chance to get to hang out with them in awhile.

I clenched my teeth together and began to climb out of the window, trying to even my breaths of terror. I kept myself from looking down as I jerked myself out of the window, unwillingly causing me to let go of the edge of the window sill. I tried my best to not scream, but a squeal of some kind left through my lips as John caught me swiftly which resulted in a gentle grunt to come from both of us.

“You alright?” John had then gently asked, his strong arms wrapped firmly around my waist and my arms were wrapped around his neck. I quickly pulled away, a red blush blooming in my cheeks as he looked at me in genuine concern which was even more embarrassing.

“Yes- I’m fine, thank you.” I murmured, fixing my shirt before glancing around to ignore his intent gaze. “Where are we?”

“Behind the school!” George shouted, answering my question before John could as he was already nearby the fence. Ringo was beside him, waving at us to come over and John was immediately sprinting with his hand holding onto mine.

I’m beginning to think the hand and wrist holding is a back and forth thing between him.

George jumped over the fence, following up with Ringo who landed on his bottom which made George laugh. John patted my back, and motioned for me to go first in which I gulped while looking at the different bird shit engraved on the fence. Well aren’t I in for it. I took in a deep breath, jumping up and wrapping my hand around the top of the fence. Climbing over before dropping back down on my feet, which on impact got weak and I ended up falling onto the dirt right on my knees.

George bent down, helping me up and Ringo did the same for John who collapsed onto his side as he fell down not long after me. “Alright Johnny?”

“Yeah, thanks mate.” John smiled over at Richard, pulling him in for a rough hug before dusting himself off and looking towards me. I looked at the dirt marks on my knees, trying to stifle my panicked breaths as my eyes widened.

It wasn’t me panicking that I dirtied up my pants, it was me imagining what my father may do when he sees my pants. He’d know that I was up to something and that would be my head for sure.

“Shucks.” George said, kneeling down and pulling out a miniature bottle of water from the side of his bag. Afterwards he wet his palm up before sloppily rubbing the smear of dirt off of my knees, and stood back up. “Maybe that would help, don’t worry.”

I sniffed and looked up from my pants, not even knowing my eyes were teary and drastically wide. George’s facial expression worsened, and soon enough John was standing next to him with the same expression. “Damn, alright we’ll get you some drainpipes later on. Don’t worry your pretty little head.” John smiled, and approached me while gingerly rubbing the tears formulating at the brim of my eyes away with the pad of his thumb.

Richard and George exchanged knowing looks.

I couldn’t help but to blush, “It’s alright, I’ll be fine. Let’s just go okay?” I stated, while nodding towards what I’m guessing was the courtyard.

While we all walked towards the courtyard, Stuart and Pete along with Ivan was there. Ivan was sitting on a bench, cigarette in between his mouth as he looked up the four of us filing onto the area. I couldn’t help but feel a bit more confident, with three other boys walking along side me even though this isn’t even my fight. Well it kind of is, but John was the one that most likely proposed it.

Pete approached John as I walked over to the side with both Ivan and George. Stuart walked to Ringo, and nudged him before shaking the boy’s hand.

“Do you really want to fight for this twat?” Pete asked, with fear presentable in his gaze as John stared down at him intently. “We’re best mates John! Come on!”

“You have no reason to lay your bloody hands on him and touch his stuff.” John’s voice was deep, and his expression seemed murderous just as he was basically backing Pete up. “He’s my best mate too, and if he would have done it to you we’d still be in this same predicament!”

Pete trembled in fear and John just smirked at the reaction he brung out of him then I watched as he looked into Richard and Stuart’s direction. “Ain’t that right Stuart?”

Stuart only nervously chuckled, and dropped his head shamefully. “Guess so Johnny.”

I couldn’t help but to feel this weird sensation growing in me by the authority John was radiating. It was new, weird but it felt good, it felt powerful. I bit down on my bottom lip, eyes glued onto John as he continued to talk down onto Pete who tried his best to keep up a serious facade.

“So apologize to him.”

“No.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw George freeze up and look expectantly at Pete. Ivan made a single noise of annoyance which made me look over at him, and once he caught me glancing at him, he only shrugged. The sound of sudden of a match flickering made my attention turn back towards John, and for a lucid second I witnessed something terrifying.

“Did you just say no to me?!” John spat, gripping onto Pete’s collar while holding a match dangerously close to the blonde hair on Pete’s head.

Stuart’s eyes widened and Richard immediately stepped in, “John!”

“John stop!” Pete was full on screaming, eyes widening in horror as John held the match closer to the tip of his hair._ “JOHN!”_

“Say fucking sorry!” John demanded, while everyone just watched in stunned silence.

Pete quivered, tears beginning to surface as he watched the ends of his hair begin to turn black. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry Paul I won’t do it again I swear!” He began to break out in horror as John began to smile sinisterly, _“PLEASE!”_ Pete added, almost choking on his own tears while he squeezed his eyes closed.

John huffed, shoving the violently convulsing man down onto the ground. Pete immediately tended to his hair, running his hair through his blonde locks while trying to gather himself back together. I watched as John threw the match onto the ground and stepped on it, before turning his gaze towards a terrified Stuart. “That goes for you to Stu, this time I’ll gauge one of those pretty eyes out ya head.”

“I think they get it John.” Richard sighed shakily, and John just nodded towards him before adjusting his jacket.

Pete sniffed, standing up before rushing past all of us. I watched as he ran away, obviously crying since he basically stumbled on his way towards the fence we had just jumped. Stuart followed closely behind him, repeatedly looking back towards us as he followed Pete. Ivan sighed, standing up and waving goodbye at me in which I lately responded to as he left behind the two. 

“Come on boys, I’m starving, let’s get something to eat.” John had then announced once they were out of our sight and headed towards me, this time he grasped at my wrist.

George gave me an apologetic look for witnessing someone almost getting their hair burnt off.

•••

John opened the door to a building, the aroma of fish and chips was simply hypnotic. George and Ringo quickly went towards the seats, sitting down in front of the counter top and gazing up at the menu.

“Ever had fish and chips before Macca?” John asked, while he expectantly glanced back at me.

“Uh yeah, sometimes.”

“Barely got any money, so we’re going to have to nick em.” George announced, lowering his voice as he looked over towards us. John nodded in understanding, but I was just transfixed into the haze of confusion. What does that mean?

Soon I found out.

I never ran so fast in my life, but it was enjoyable as I stuffed my face with food while the manager of the restaurant shouted at us. Richard pulled down some stairs that he could get ahold of while we all waited in the alleyway, giggling and laughing at various things.

“Shit was funny, did you see his face?” John laughed, carefully holding his container of food as he clambered up the stairs behind me.

I couldn’t help but to laugh as well reminding myself of the angry red face, and the way his apron was stained as he tried to chase us down. “Called is bloody twits.”

George giggled softly, “It was fucking hilarious.”

Eventually, when we reached the top of the stairs there was an opened door that Richard had rushed into. Afterwards, Richard helped all of us up onto a room that had different instruments scattered around, and papers with lyrics written on them. “Made it fellas.” He had then said, and plopped down onto the dusty floor, helping himself to his food.

George sat down too eating down his food mercilessly, and John had just paused his movements then suddenly stripped off his jacket with one arm. “Sit on this Macca, the floor is dirty.”

I blushed and indeed sat down on top of his jacket while inserting a chip into my mouth, “Thanks John.”

“I’m thirsty.” Richard said, as he wiped his mouth and stood up while kicking his empty container to the side. “About to nick us some drinks.”

“I’ll come with you.” George immediately said, placing his food down while we watched as he stood up to join Ringo.

“Don’t get killed out there boys.” John said, which made me laugh a bit as they exited out of the room. Possibly venturing down those creeky stairs that we had to clamber up to get here.

“Were you really about to burn his hair?” I couldn’t help but ask, looking over at John who was continuing to eat his food. As soon as I asked, John immediately paused and lowered the chips from his mouth. “Uh, yeah. I do that.” John answered almost hesitantly, before shrugging his shoulders and presuming to eat. I only nodded, shifting uncomfortably while biting down and chewing on my food as well.

“I’m a bit crazy in the head you see, but I won’t do that to you at all if you’re thinking that.” John said, noticing my sudden uncomfortableness.

“You said if I did it to him we’d still be in the same predicament though.”

“That was just me talking.” John said, scooting closer to me and putting his empty container to the side. “You’re too pretty for me to harm you.”

I laughed and looked down while mentally repeating his words. “Pete’s not a bad looking individual.” I countered, while a deep blush ignited in my cheeks.

“Oh does Pete have big and beautiful puppy dog eyes?” John asked, lifting his hand up to cup my face and make me face him. My eyes widened at the compliment, and I couldn’t bring it to myself to say anything. “Does Pete have the most cutest laugh a person could ever hear? Does Pete have baby cheeks, soft skin and the sweetest scent that could ever radiate from somebody?”

“John I-” I began, stopping myself as his finger went underneath my chin and his thumb began to brush lightly against my skin. His eyes lowered down to my lips, and this was when I realized how close he had become. “Can Pete turn the straightest man queer?” John breathlessly asked, before leaning in closer which made my eyes voluntarily close and bracing myself for impact.

“Back!”

Before I knew it, John threw himself to the other side of the room and grasped at the neglected guitar that lay there. “Right, so pop one of those open and let’s get started.” He said, with his hands shaking and his eyes slightly widened from the sudden interruption. 

I was shaking just as bad, my cheeks flushed and chest heaving. George and Richard noticed, but they seemed to have brushed it off. “A homeless man was giving these drinks out, he let us get some for free. Ain’t that backwards?”

John forced out a laugh, “Yeah, it is backwards.”

While they began to play, I just sat there, thinking and trying to process what just happened.

**Was John about to kiss me?**

•••


	8. Chapter 8

"Paulie, Paulie, Paulie- what's your mum like?"

"She was kind, beautiful really. Why?"

George had then drunkenly collapsed next to me, with a half empty bottle in his hand. The guitar in his other hand crashed onto my chest causing me to haunch over briefly in slight pain at the collision, before reevaluating myself.

George murmured an apology, "Sorry. I just wanted to know, I kind of don't know anything about you really."

I only stared for a bit, "Right. I never found anything important enough to tell you or anyone."

George glanced away from me over towards Richard and John who were chatting at the doorway of the abandoned room we were in. I looked in the same direction, eyeing John a bit more than normally, desperately trying to sort out whatever he was about to do to me earlier. Or whatever he was trying to say that the very least.

"Think John fancies you." George slurred, and sluggishly stretched his limbs as he leaned his side against me. "I can tell."

It took me a few minutes to let George's words appropriately wrap around my head. I guess that was one way to put the situation unfolding between me and John.

Richard attempted to sit up straight, and sheepishly turned around to face me and George. "George give'us the time."

George pondered for a few seconds as if he was trying to guess the time, and checked his watch. "School's halfway done, I'm sure we don't have to worry."

John coughed, and stood up turning around to face us. "We have to get Macca home soon. Most likely before school's over because his father's a weirdo."

I blushed, and tried to ignore the high pitched cackles resounding in the room. Richard walked over towards one of the empty bottles of liquor, and popped another one opened before grasping at his coat. “Don’t we have enough time to get down another song?”

George sat up, hiccuping and rubbing at his nose. “I’m too shit faced to play again, Paul you’ve got this one for me right?”

Richard burped, “Does he even know how to play?”

Before I could answer the possibly offensive question, John had somewhat passive aggressively cut in. “Yes, he does.”

Richard looked at him, an apologetic expression on his face as John grasped a guitar and passed by the shorter man, intently eyeing him down. I stood up on my feet, making George slightly fall on his side with a few fits of giggles.

John handed me the guitar, purposely brushing his fingers against mine as I gripped onto it. Forcing myself to react to the innocent touch later on, I had then flipped the guitar towards my left again and winged the strap of it onto my shoulder. “How does the song go?” I asked, looking up at them under my eyelashes.

John just stared at me longingly for a bit as if he was admiring my existence, which eventually caused Richard to speak up instead. “Basically, it’s like one of those salsa joints.”

“He doesn’t know what you’re talking about you gits.” George’s suddenly sobered voice coming behind me made me jump a bit. Walking from behind me, he made some kind of _‘doomp,’_ _‘doomp,’_ noise and acted like he was playing a guitar. “You know how Besame Mucho goes?”

Richard snorted, “Now George love, Besame Mucho doesn’t go like that. It’s like, _dun, dunununun, brumble, brumble.”_

“What?” I asked, genuinely confused to what they were trying to say. I felt a bunch of different levels ofembarrassment weigh me down, and it caused me to almost run away from the trio in front of me.

“How about something more explainable.” John finally spoke up, seemingly snapping out of his haze. “We all hurry to my house, and I’ll show him a record of Kansas City.”

“John I thought we left that song alone.” George was slurring again, causing me to look at him sideways.

“Paul can do it.” John smirked at me, and let his eyes linger on me for a bit as he turned and bended overto grasp at the different papers on the floor. “I know he can, we can put it back on there.”

“I haven’t even listened to him play yet.” Richard said, as he helped John with the sheets of lyrics sprawled out everywhere.

“You will soon.” I said confidently, and smiled gently at the boys.

•••

I held my head down as we were all walking along the river and train tracks, trying my best not to step on huge piles of dirt. Although I was questioning my father’s objectives on germs, I couldn’t help but still have that feeling of nausea when it comes to increasingly dirty things. Trash was littered almost everywhere, and it was disgusting. I could have sworn I passed bytwo old raccoons humping each other.

Cling. Clang. Clong. _Crash_.

“John what are you doing!?” I gasped in pure shock, watching as the sounds of glass hit the floor inside of the abandoned warehouse along the tracks.

George and Richard were laughing their asses off, encouraging John to quickly grasp at the other empty liquor bottles set down beside his feet.

Then John had turned to me with the most childishly evil smile on his face, to me it kind of made him look younger than anyone else.“Come off of it Paul! No one owns this place anyway, that’s why it’s abandoned. All this graffiti already surpassed vandalism.”

I watched as he threw another hollowed bottle into one of the withered windows which made another hauntingly loud crash sound rack up my body. George and Ringo soon joined in, which left me watching soundlessly with my mouth set agape.

John walked over towards me with a bottle, and took my hand to put the half empty wine bottle into it. “Just do it, we have to get going if you want us to make it at my house then back at school on time.”

“But John I-”

“No buts kiddo, do it or your father will have your head for your own faults.” John teased, while basically dragging me towards Richard and George who were having the time of their lives right now.

“But this was your idea!” I argued, swallowing hard as I stared at one of the non-broken windows.

John chuckled almost manically, and massaged my shoulders from behind me before leaning in to whisper in my ear. “An idea of mine that you agreed to.”

I shivered, and gripped the neck of the bottle before winging my left arm back, bringing my right foot forward. Closing my eyes tightly, I swung the bottle towards the direction of the building and gasped in shock at the bone rattling crash of the window breaking. For a minute I went deaf, my heartbeatpenetrating my ears and my own tremors of guilt coursing through my bloodstream.

I stumbled back a bit, watching with my eyes widened in horror as basically the whole damn glass collapsed.

What was I doing? Why am I even here? My father would kill me if he ever found out about this. He’d kill me knowing that I was still even conversing with John, George and Richard. He’d kill me knowing that I ditched school to hang out with them. He’d kill me knowing that I just broke the property of the public, and that I’m getting this sudden rush of adrenaline. Wait, _what_?

My heart was pumping vigorously, and John laughed while shaking me excitedly. Praising me at how hard I thrown the bottle, at how many pieces of glasses from the window fell out into the building, he was praising me. I never felt so..enraptured from doing something in my entire sixteen years of living.

A smile slowly crept its way into my face, and I could suddenly hear again.

“Another one! Another one!” George cheered, passing the last two wine bottles over to me and John.

John ruffled my hair, snatching the bottle excitedly from George before throwing it recklessly at one of the windows. “Shit!” He laughed, backing away as the whole window collapsed in on itself on impact.

I stepped back a few, before running towards the building and aggressively tossing the bottle into one window. Screams of sheer excitement, and laughter came from behind me. I turned around facing George, Richard and John who hugged me while praising me once again. We were all sharing laughs, compliments and different unknown squawking you’d doubt a full blooded human could do.

An old timely man came from behind the building, holding his cane up in the air with a shaky arm. “What the fuck?! What in the bullocks are you kids doing?!”

Blood rushed to my head, and I thought I was about to have a seizure on the spot. John suddenly grasped at my wrist, and dragged me along the rest of them as they all began to run. I tripped a bit before finally regaining myself, trying my best not to panic at us basically being caught. That old feeling of fear came back as fast as it left.

•••

Mimi opened the door, obviously taken back as John, Richard, George and I nonchalantly walked inside. “Was it a early release day or something?”

George automatically turned away from us and went into the kitchen, which made Richard follow behind him like a lost dog. John threw off his coat, hanging it on the coat rack. Afterwards, he turned to Mimi and nod his head silently as he took my hand and rushes over towards the stairs. I couldn’t help but to squeeze his hand, “Greetings Mimi!”

“Greetings Paul!” She called from downstairs.

John threw open his room door and closed it once we were both situated inside. “Hate lying to her, I really do.”

“Then tell the truth.” I said heading over towards his bed to sit down, John pauses his movements and looked at me as if I had three heads before shrugging. “She’ll find out on her own time.” He snickered, while heading over towards his closet and opening the door.

I bet she’ll find out in ten minutes.

“Right so let me play Besame Mucho and Kansas City for you, then I’ll take you back to the school.”

“What should I say if they ask me where I’ve been?”

John licked his lips in thought, “Tell them that you were there the whole time, but you in the library having a mental breakdown.”

I blinked, and furrowed my eyebrows. “No.”

“Stick your fingers down your throat, and make sure they don’t see you do it. Just do it, and don’t stop until you feel the urge to vomit.” John said, turning on Besame Mucho which caused me to squirm around until I was relaxed on his extremely comfortable bed. “Then once you do vomit, or gag violently then say you was in the bathroom all day throwing up.”

I thought about this, as much of a drag it would be. It would be reasonable though. “Fine, only because I told my teacher that I’d have to use the bathroo-”

“Paul I like you.”

I was frozen, and confused as of how abruptly John announced this. “What?”

John smiled, a glint of fear and adoration in his eyes as he began to explain while switching the record off to put in Kansas City. “Wasn’t queer before, and I believe I still am not. You just have a spell on me, and I think it’s just me liking you. I won’t hide around the bush like a scary twat and try to figure out what you would think about me liking you. That’s just boring, cliche’ if you ask me.”

John thought for a moment, before eventually adding. “I mean, I understand it though. Some queers are scared to get their asses handed to them.” 

For some reason, I was out of words. There was a vast amount of anxiety rushing through my bloodstream, this was so sudden. How casually he confessed his liking to me was shocking to say the least. “I- I don’t- isn’t that wrong?”

“So they say, but I don’t really care about it being wrong. There’s so many things wrong in the world and for some reason people think homosexuality is one of them. Anyway, I never cared about anything regarding the policies, and laws in this shitty, apparently united kingdom.”

“Then why did you jolt away when Richard and George came in with the drinks? I had a feeling you were going to kiss me.”

“I know they think I’m queer, I just wanted to mess with their minds.” John laughed, seemingly reminding himself as of how fast he slid away from Paul.

I felt a warmth invade my body, as the unforgettable sound of Little Richard’s voice swayed me. “Mm, I felt like I knew, but I thought it would be weird to ask.”

“If it was someone else asking, I’d cripple them, I’ll admit. Love is personal.” John tapped his foot, tilting his head side to side.

It was quiet for a bit.

“Got it?”

I stopped swaying and frowned, confused by the sudden aimless question. “Got what?”

“The songs I just played dufus.” John said, face deadpanned with a hidden smirk forming.

“No, I’m just distracted. This is just a lot to think about, I mean I’m not saying I don’t like you back. Or I-” A blush crept onto my cheeks at what I just said, and what I said altogether it made John giggle.

“Don’t think about it too much, it’ll get scary.”

I hummed, “How long have you liked me?”

“Since I heard you play, I mean I was infatuated with you before that. It was when you played, and sung though. That was nice.”

I blushed, nervously fiddling with the hem of my clothes. “I’m- I’m not a person you could just like though John, other than me playing, I’m boring! I don’t have many friends apart from you guys, my father is too overprotective of me to let me go and do anything too!”

John giggled preciously again, and turned the record off as he turned his body around to face me. “Oh Paul, you’re so stupid.”

I looked at him, slightly offended at his choice of words. “What do you mean?”

“That’s just how you see yourself. Unreasonably useless, it’s his everyone sees themselves. To the other though, it’s different, you’re the most interesting person I’ve met this year.”

“_Interesting_?”

John was walking towards me now, and he sat down smack beside me with an arm snaking around my neck. I turned my head towards him, noticing that our faces were once again, mere inches apart from each other. “Yes, it’s not everyday you meet a person who gets sick when someone gets as close as I am to you.”

I laughed a bit, just drowning in distraction from those pools of brown coloured eyes. “Really? Seems about normal to me.”

“I guess so, but carrying your own soap with you is a bit extreme right?”

“Like school soap does anything impactful to the germs in your hand.” I rolled my eyes, trying not to smile as John reached a hand up to caress my cheek and made me face him all the way.

“I have germs on my hand right now, and it’s touching all over your face.” John spoke softly, brushing the side of his thumb against my reddened cheek.

“Stop.” I breathed, noticing how close John had become within a range of a few seconds.

“Why?”

”I-I can’t.” I stammered, biting down on my bottom lip as I tried heavily to not let my eyes retract to his lips. 

“You’re not pulling away from it. I’m tainting you, aren’t I?” John asked, and suddenly the heat in the room increased. “I’m dirtying up the pristine Paul Mccartney.”

I felt my breath hitch, and my body quiver while reacting subconsciously. I grabbed John’s shirt, pushing my lips onto his with my eyes clenched closed, and he immediately returned the kiss. What was I doing? This was the most germ ridden action that could ever be done. And I was in love with it. I could get in so much trouble for this, and nothing would even stop me from not having my tongue brushed against by John’s and my mouth explored.

John pulled away after awhile, eyes covered with something unfamiliar but it looked rather pleasing. I wonder if it was lust or something, I heard that word being thrown around a few times before.

Before either of us could get a breath in to say something, the door was thrown open, and this time we didn’t pull away from each other like last time. In this case, it didn’t matter. “John! Mimi’s on the phone with the _school_!” Richard exclaimed, not even taking in the fact that I was still clutching onto John shirt and that John’s hand was on my cheek.

“The school called her up, probably saying that we ditched school in the middle of the day!” George cried out, still a bit buzzed but genuinely scared.

Holy shit, it _was_ ten minutes. 

My throat went dry, and my mouth filled up with water or some sort as a wave of fear enveloped my entire being. “What?” I croaked, eyes beginning to water up already.

“Shit!” John stood up, grasping at my violently shaking hand. “We got to go before she calls all of us downstairs.”

With that, and me being dragged by John — we escaped out of the house, miraculously not being caught by Mimi. It was down the street of a particular neighborhood where, George hugged me goodbye and so did Richard along with hugging John.

“My d-dad,” I stuttered, seeing black spots appear in my field of vision as George and Richard bolted in different directions to their homes.

I couldn’t move. I felt so stuck, so paralyzed with fear and regret. There was no way that he was not going to find out, they called Mimi which meant they also called George, Ringo and my parents too. The fucking fab four kids that ditched school. John must have noticed my mental state, because he turned around and rested both warm hands on my already tear streaked cheeks. I flinched, suddenly feeling disgusted at the gentle but germy touch.

“We’ll be fine okay? Paul we’ll get you home, I swear.” John said, as he looked at me with a hint of sorrow in his eyes and self-loathing at his carelessness.

“D-Don’t touch me!” I snapped, my voice cracking but echoing in the street. A strength that I never knew I had brewed up, and exploded which caused me to push John off of me. “I knew I shouldn’t of came with you! Now I’m in trouble and I have to deal with my dad!” I squawked, shaking uncontrollably as I wiped the tingling feeling of his hands off of my cheeks.

John looked genuinely, if not mockingly hurt. Then there was also thar side of John that resembled a look of, ‘no way, fuck that.’

“Don’t get mad at me. We’re all fucked, my aunt’s just as bad as your dad, I might get my ass handed to me tonight too! Doesn’t give you an excuse to go off, blaming me!”

I felt numb with pulsing, never before felt anger. Why was I so angry? He was right, probably, but he doesn’t understand at all.“It was your idea!”

“And you went along, don’t pick me out to be the only fuck up in this mess. You was upset because Stu and Pete fucked your special soap up, so I took you out to redeem yourself!”

I couldn’t argue with that, but my mind was telling me something other wise. “You volunteered to do it though John! I never fucking asked for you to cheer me up! Hell I never asked for you to almost burn Pete’s bloody hair off either, you crazy piece of shit!”

I should have seen it coming as soon as John grasped me by my collar, basically lifting me up off of the ground. “Now just because I fancy you Mccartney, doesn’t mean that I won’t beat that pretty face to a pulp.” He spat, before dropping me down back onto my feet and turning around to whip out a cigarette from his pocket. “You ungrateful little shit, walk yourself home since you think that way. Plus you’re out of the band. Go and jerk yourself off with a goddamn glove, you cunt.” John spat angrily as he walked away from me, literally trembling and red with anger.

I was crying. Whatever was going on with everything needed to stop at this moment. Once I did get home, gratefully my dad’s car was not there which meant he hadn’t been home for the whole day.

I tearfully wiped my eyes with the back of my sleeve, and went to the back. Up the drainpipe then. Before mom died, that was the only way to get inside of the home. Now we barely use this tactic, especially from all the chipping paint and bird shit on there. I skillfully climbed up, the drainpipe trying my best to hold onto it and not get myself worked up by crying. The same day John confesses to me, we get into a fight.

God what is wrong with me?

I reached up to wipe my eyes again, causing me to almost slip and fall to my possible death. “Shit, shit, shit.” I cursed under my breath, and held on tightly to the pipe as I basically punched the bathroom window open.

I collapsed into the cleansed clorox bleach scented tub, and stood up quickly to close the window. Delete the school’s left over message from the house phone phone, got it. I climbed out of the tub, and headed down the stairs to the phone wrapped up in plastic settled down on the table in the middle of the hallway. I sighed, and pressed the delete button before sniffling once again.

Tomorrow’s going to be a long day. Especially since I hadn’t gotten in trouble today, John was right and I was just overreacting.

I hope he still likes me.

•••


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i really don’t know how to punch and pull my way out of writers block do i? lmaooo sorry for the wait!! hope you enjoy!

Paul eyes shot open, sweat glazing his skin as he inhaled the fumes of bleach, and different cleaners. He was having a dream, a particular dream that he had never had before in his entire life-span. Taking a deep breath, he lifted his arm up to cover his forehead away from the moon-rays sleeping through the window into his empty room. Fuck he was feeling so hot, and so awake, so good. A spine tingling sensation spreading in his private area, which resulted into him slowly and hesitantly drawing his hand down his boxers to cup his hardened cock.

“What the fuck?” Paul’s breath hitched, and he immediately removed his hand from his cock. Why did it feel like that? So fucking hard, so thick and velvety which was rare for Paul. Even though in a few occasions when he was around John, the feeling would come and go with different amounts of times.

He moved his hips against the cloth of his boxers, and he wasn’t expecting it to feel so fucking good. Why did it feel so good? What the fuck was happening to him? For a minute, he thought about calling out to his father who was possibly asleep. Paul sat up on his elbow, breathing uneven and laboured as he sunk his hand down into his boxers again to slowly wrap around his hand around his hard, leaking cock. The coldness of his hand startled him, causing him to jolt and remove his hand away again. 

What was weird to him is that he wasn’t in any pain by this sudden elevation of hardness. If anything, he was more curious with himself than he had ever been. Paul for the third time, enclosed his fist around his aching cock and began to squeeze it which caused a gasp to leave his lips. He fell back, not putting his elbow in use anymore as he slowly worked his trembling hand up and down his cock. “Oh fuck-” He moaned, breath hitching as he began to notice how sensitive he was. It was to a point where he could barely move his hand without generating an overstimulating amount of pleasure.

When his eyes closed, he saw John. Fucking John Lennon. That beautiful smile, those glistening brown eyes and the way they kissed before they argued that one day. Paul cursed under his breath, running his other hand up his body as he worked his hand faster and he began to let out moans that rose up to his ceiling. He had no idea what was possessing him, and why it was possessing him. But it felt so good, so fucking good it was probably evil.

Then the knob of his door began to rattle.

For some reason, Paul removed his hand from under his boxers but the tint there was still prominent. He turned on his side, facing the blank wall with his breathing heavy still and his face flushed. The door to his room began to open, and Jim came in tired, sluggish, and observant. “Are you okay Paul? What’s all that noise in here?” He asked, concern filtering his tone as he looked at his son balled up in fetal position.

“Had a bad dream. That’s all.” Paul swallowed, trying his best not to accidentally moan since he was still trying to gather himself from what he was doing earlier. The feeling was _that _good.

Jim stayed for a minute, glancing around suspiciously for a bit before nodding his head. “Alright then, just come into my room if you need anything. Goodnight...I love you son.”

“Goodnight.” Was the _only_ thing Paul responded with.

When the door closed, Paul immediately shifted back onto his backside and stared fondly at the ceiling. The aching feeling in his crotch area was growing steadily, but he edged himself to not touch it at all for a couple of seconds. Afterwards, he began to draw his boxers down his legs and caress his balls gently, softly, somewhat affectionately. It was time to explore his body.

Paul ran his fingertips against his shaft, all the way up to his teeth purchasing chills from himself. He bit his lip to keep in his moans, wrapping his hand around his cock to jerk himself fiercely while he squeezed both of his balls with his other hand. “Mmph,” He cried out, squeezing himself as he relentlessly fucked his fist. Chills ran up his spine as his eyes began to the roll back, his hand twisting and moving in ways he couldn’t interpret at all. Only one thought was in his head for the first time, and it was John Lennon.

Something was happening, his muscles were relaxing and his body was convulsing out of the waves of pleasure that racked him. Paul’s breaths were laboured even more, and sweat began to bead up his body while he twisted his hips around from the stimulation. He was close, feeling as if he was about to release something. Or that he was about to explode, contract, or do something with all the pleasure building up inside of him. Nonetheless, he was near tears when his imagination of John began to grow more vulgar.

“Jo-John,” He stuttered, moaning softly at nothing as his hands began to stutter around his cock while he began to spurt all over himself. Paul went rigid, and his eyes popped open again as he let out a few pants from what just happened. He lifted himself up to see a sight that terrified him greatly at first.

Paul lifted his shaking hand up to his face, looking at the hot and dripping white liquid that soaked his palm. “Bloody fuck,” He panted exhaustedly, still looking at the liquid before looking down and witnessing more of it splattered onto his stomach and dripping down his inner thighs. His mind told him, if it was bad, it would be blood. This was white however. Like milk, it looked like milk. Was it milk? Paul ran his tongue against the liquid, and then recoiled at the salty but sweet taste of himself. “It’s not milk.”

When Paul exited the bathroom, cleansed from a cold shower, he almost had a heart attack at the sight of Michael sitting at the edge of his bed. Luckily, it wasn’t the spot where everything went down. “Christ, what are you doing awake?” He shakily whispered, eyes widening at his little brother. Paul quickly rushed inside and closed the door, locking it so his father won’t come rushing in.

“I heard you making weird noises.” Michael said softly, almost embarrassed. “Woke me up, it did.”

Paul blinked, face flushed with embarrassment. Was he that loud? “Oh well, I was kind of-"

“Who’s John?” Michael asked, with furrowed eyebrows. “And why were you saying his name like that?”

Paul shook his head, nervously fiddling with hands behind his back. “He’s no one, and- and- I don’t know. I was just-” Paul exhaled, deciding to try and describe what had just happened the best way he could. “I did something, so weird to myself but it felt so right. I had no idea what it was or how it felt so good but..”

“You touched yourself too?” Michael asked, voice quivering with some kind of relief. “That’s what it is. I did it a few nights ago, just woke up with the feeling you know. It was after me and pa went shopping and I saw that blonde girl in the magazine papers or whatever you call it. I never got her out of my head until I had to deal with it.”

Paul was struck with shock, not knowing what to say about this matter. Although, he was glad he wasn’t the only one that experienced this whole matter. Did everyone experience this kind of thing? “Did you do the um-” Paul motioned his hand, doing the gesture of jerking himself off like he did earlier.

Michael blushed from crippling embarrassment and shook his head. “N-No, I didn’t touch myself directly until last night. For the first time I just rubbed against my pillow.”

“Do you think you did something bad too?”

“Yeah, that’s why I’m so shocked to know you do it too.” Michael admitted, and just from the tears in his eyes that were screaming ‘thank God I’m not the only one’ Paul knew that he was single-handedly upset with himself days prier leading up to this. “I told myself not to do it again so many times because it would dirty myself up, and dad doesn’t like that.”

“Yeah, I know. But if it hit me and you then, it has to hit everyone else.” Paul said, walking over towards his brother and pulling the teary eyed boy into a hug. “Maybe it’s just another thing dad kept from us. I don’t think you should feel wrong about it Mike.”

Michael nodded, and sniffed as he embraced his older brother. It was obvious to both of them that this was a personal topic that only they could share with each other, and never tell their father a single word about it. Not a word.

_— John Lennon_

“Late again.”

“Do something about it then.” I spat, giving the teacher a glare that meant that I was obviously not in the mood for anything she had in mind. From the back of me I could feel eyes burning in the back of my skull, and little minute of disbelief about my boldness. I could careless though.

“I could give you detention.” She said, flabbergasted by how aggressive I was being today. Poor lass, it’s not her fault though. Honestly, it wasn’t anybody’s.

“That hasn’t stopped me from being late. Hasn’t it?”

“It hasn’t, but you being late hasn’t stopped me from giving you detention. Seems like what we’re both doing is pointless.” The teacher said, and it was at that time I’ve noticed that she was far from my other teachers. She had closely, to actual black hair and had looked to be from Japanese descant. They must have just hired her, because I haven’t seen her before at all. Or maybe I’ve just been skipping class too much.

“One of us needs to stop at one point.” I muttered, ignoring the distinct giggles and whispers coming from the bunch of little fuckers behind me.

The teacher nodded, and gave me a witty smile which caused the atmosphere to shift into awkwardness. “That’s right Lennon. One of us do.”

Luckily, there was no further disagreements. I sat in the back of the class, the side of my face held up with my left palm and my right hand scribbling down different doodles in my notebook. Most of the words down were lyrics, some that were finished and others that I had no idea what tune to add in. I flipped a couple of pages, pausing at the single page that had a little half-done piece of Paul’s face.

I narrowed my eyes, “Hm.”

Someone tapped my arm, and leaned in. “I think Mrs. Ono has a total crush on you.” A blonde female laughed softly into her hand, while she whispered the accusation to me. “She never smiled at any student.”

Closing my notebook, I turned to the girl and skimmed her for a bit. Finally, someone to talk to without having me to make conversation first. I knew this girl though, from around the way. Plus, she was kind of popular really. Pattie Boyd. “You think so little miss thing?” I quietly asked, a charismatic smirk forming my lips.

Pattie nodded, “Watch.” She mouthed to me, before clearing her throat loudly which interrupted Ono’s lecture. “Mrs. Ono? John had just told me that you have the most loveliest eyes.” Pattie had lied, right through her damn teeth. She fluttered her eyelashes just to add on with the impact of the false compliment.

“Ew.” A boy named Timothy accidentally blurted, but unfortunately it went ignored.

Mrs. Ono turned around, and a blush was smeared across her cheeks. “Really John? I appreciate the compliment. And I must say, you have the most beautiful eyes as well.”

I recoiled, jaw dropped and eyebrows furrowed as my fucking teacher smiled shyly at me. Pattie slapped my shoulder, silently demanding me to reply to the returned compliment that Mrs. Ono had given me. After stammering for a couple of seconds, I cleared my throat and nodded while running my hands through my hair nervously. “Uh- thanks? You do know how to swoon a bloke.” I laughed, blushing a bit at all the attention that was swarming over me.

Pattie giggled, and cooed with a strong purpose ofinstigating this entire moment. Soon the whole class had joined, while Mrs. Ono was literally melting into a tomato with her hands covering her all of her face.

I scratched the back of my neck, and put my head down for about three minutes until Mrs. Ono had finally, but uneasily got through the lesson. Jesus, is this shit even allowed? I lifted my head up, watching a bit as she taught on before flipping open the notebook again.

Sketch. _Flip_. Sketch. _Flip_. Sketch. _Flip_. Ah, here we go. I traced my fingertips over the unfinished sketch of Paul, and sighed as I recounted back to true other day.

What an absolutely awkward fallout we had the other day. I have no idea how exactly it escalated that fast, from us sharing a passionate kiss and me confessing to him to us just arguing it out like that. Such beautiful things could take a big turn, like throwing a boomerang at your enemy just to have it turn back on you at the very last minute. Slowly, I turned the page again with a rather strong lingering feeling of finishing the sketch. I’ll deal with it later.

I looked back up at Mrs. Ono who was now facing the class, trying her best to keep her eyes off of me. Either way, we both caught each other’s gaze which made me quickly dart my eyes down, and it made her only giggle dreamily. I shook my head in slight disbelief for a few seconds, paused and then began to sketch her instead. It was only because I was bored, and she might explode if I ever showed her a drawing that I made of her. I smiled at the thought, holding in a laugh by biting down on my bottom lip while moving my pencil around in determination.

The bells had rung eventually, and as I was beginning to exit out of the class. Mrs. Ono grasped at my wrist, pulling me back towards her which had frightened me for a moment.

“My name is Yoko Ono.” She greeted me, obviously trying her best not to have her face tear into two by the wide smile.

“John Lennon?” I responded, having it come out more as an uncomfortable question. “What is it teach? Have I caught your knickers in a twist?” I jokingly asked, trying to be playful nonetheless of my uncomfortableness around this strange woman.

“No, I just find you as an interesting boy. You’ve caught me off guard with that compliment about my eyes earlier. I really have appreciated it you know?” Yoko was speaking to me as if she wanted to seduce me right then and there. I slowly crept back towards the door, as she walked closer towards me. “It was very, very sweet John.”

“Seems like you don’t get complimented too often.” I said, pausing near the doorway and staring right at her. We seemed to be the same height (she was a bit taller than me at the moment), but maybe that was her heels.

“I do, but yours was special.”

“All compliments are special.” I countered, trying to get out of this situation the best I could.

Yoko shook her head, reaching up to thread her hand into my hair. “Not to me.”

“So what makes mine special?” I had shuddered, feeling my stomach churn for the oddest of reasons. What I did know is that I didn’t like this. I don’t even know her like that for her to be touching my hair, I don’t know any teacher like that to be touching my hair.

“Because, I know it came from John Lennon.” She softly giggled, running her hands down to my jawline and cheek. “I just find it sweet it came from you.”

At that moment, I moved away from her touch and began to trek backwards out into the hallway. “Oh well, that’s nice. I’ll see you soon. Tomorrow- or just- yeah bye.” I stammered, tripping over myself to get the fuck out of that classroom. What was her problem? Was she one of those teachers that had that weird ass infatuation with teenagers, kids, babies? I certainly hope not.

Walking through the crowded foyers in the midst of switching classes, I caught the gaze of Pete and Stuart standing by a water fountain. Pete was staring vengefully, hands clenched in the fist as he glared his specks directly at me. Stuart was just standing next to him awkwardly, sunglasses off and resting onto his shirt for once in his fucking life.

“Shit.” I mumbled under my breath, exhaling through my nose as I turned around. The last thing I need is to run into a bold Pete and having to knock him dead. Right when I turned around, I was facing Paul who was making his way down the hallway with his head down and eyes watching the floor. George and Ringo were chatting next to him, keeping up the same pace.

“John!”

I heard my name coming from Pete of course. Once again, I turned around with a vexed look on my face. Well that was exactly how I was feeling at the moment. Instead of making my way towards them, in which I think Pete was hoping for, I trekked the other way and pushed opened the door to a classroom that was being supervised by a substitute.

“Uh- are you in this class?”

“Well I just walked in it, didn’t I?” I asked with a deadpanned stare, after a few seconds of him trying to register if I was a student of his, I just shrugged and closed the door behind me. Winking over that the couple of birds in the corner, smiling at how they giggled back at me, I had then went and ventured off towards the back.

For some unknown fucking reason that always grants to fuck with me, Paul walked inside, rubbing his eyes tiredly with the back of his hands. I silently watched, as he stopped in front of an empty desk and stared at it in puzzled disgust for a bit. His face seemed to have been slowly transitioning into a horrific expression at the sight of..a chewed up piece of gum that was recklessly left at the corner of the desktop along with crumbs of food that was probably there beforehand.

Paul looked around for a few seconds, and then caught my eye. We stared at each other for a few moments, until that radical substitute asked for Paul to take a seat at the desk. Paul whipped his head around in the substitute’s direction, and began to form up his words the best he could. “Uh I can’t sit here sir, it’s too dirty. I’d have to clean it or-”

“What do you mean too dirty?” The sub had aggressively asked, obviously annoyed at the difficulties happening right now. “It’s a desk son.”

“He’s been doing this since he got here sir.” Some other kid said, which caused the whole class to laugh afterwards.

I watched amused as Paul rolled his eyes, and crossed his arms stubbornly. “You don’t understand, I can’t be around dirt or anything that’s germy or- or I’d get in trouble. You see my dad is very strict about this, and I don’t want to get him upset by disobeying him.”

At this point, I had a piece of paper balled up and ready to aim at the substitute teacher or anyone else that had a problem with Paul’s pristine antics. Even though we were on bad terms, there’s no way in hell I’m going to sit here and watched him get clowned on just because some fat hag left pieces of food on the desk.

“Well does your dad know that it’s just a school desk? Have you ever told him that?” The substitute, said condescendingly with his hand on his hip.

“He doesn’t listen.” Paul said, surprisingly calm throughout this rough treatment. I could tell he was slowly losing his cool though, just from how his body would tremor every couple of seconds that flown by with this argument.

“Since he won’t listen, I won’t either. Now could you please sit down McCartney? Or I will have no choice but to put you in detention until school is over.”

Paul was beginning to break, because I could see him clench his fist from faraway. I stood up, and winged my arm back before propelling it forward to throw the balled up piece of paper right at the substitute’s forehead. It seemed as if the whole classroom went silent, and turned around to face me with a surprised expression on their faces. “You’ve heard the kid, said he didn’t want to sit down on that grotty seat. Look at it for fucksake.” I said, trudging over towards Paul and knocking on the wood. “Disgusting.”

“Piss off Lennon, you bloody tart. I know you didn’t just knock on the wood.” One of the boys laughed, which caused me to smile cheekily.

The substitute was _angry_, obviously. Since I threw a ball of paper at him, and since I was co-signing with Paul that the desk was absolutely horrid.

•••

With my feet propped up on the desk, and my chair tilted back I took a long drag from my cig. Paul was sitting next to me, simply watching as I smoked my second ciggy. We hadn’t exchanged any words ever since we got forced into the detention room, there was no teacher there since it was still early in the day and all the classes were taken up for some reason. Surprisingly, everyone wanted to be not absent today.

I could hear Paul sigh, and it made me glance over at him for a bit. “What’s up?” I breathed, coughing a bit at the amount of smoke I just suddenly inhaled.

“I’m sorry.” He said softly, swaying side to side for a bit. “For arguing with you. My dad didn’t get the message by the way, so you were right and- and- I really don’t want us to stop being friends. Or something more.”

With that last sentence, I fell back and my head collided with the desk behind me. The pain striking my body hadn’t startled me as much as what Paul had just said. “Wait, wait- fuck can you start over for me real quick?” I asked, regathering myself mentally and physically while Paul just watched in shock and some type of amusement. “You said you were sorry, and then you don’t want us to stop being friends or something more? What do you mean?”

“You like me, and- and from the looks of it. I think I like you too.”

“How do you know you like me?” I asked, still taken back by this sudden confession from Paul McCartney.

Paul’s face began to turn beet red by the query, and he huffed in a breath as he squeezed his legs together. He stammered a bit, and giggled like a bird as he tried to explain how he figured out his feelings for me with his hands grounding down against his crotch and him consistently retracting his gaze elsewhere, shyly biting his bottom lip. “I uh- kind of- dirtied myself up a bit for the first time.” He squeaked out, and covered his face with one hand.

I watched his body language, and that’s when the vulgar thought occurred to me. My face also began to shade with a dark red, and it got silent between us for a couple of minutes.

_Holy fucking shit._

A dazed smile slowly began to stretch across my face as I could only imagine. Wow. There was sheer feeling of all of my insecurities fading away by the shock of having someone, touch themselves at the thought of me. Anyone to be exact, it really boosts yourself up.

“Anyways.” Paul announced, voice a bit shaky as he tried to recover from the embarrassment mounted on him by admitting masturbation. “It was weird, I haven’t done it before at all and-”

“Save the explanation Paulie.” I smiled, and looked around a bit to see any teachers or students walking by. Afterwards, I pulled Paul in a for a single peck on his lips and the experience of feeling his body heat up at just a single peck was adorable. “I forgive you y’know? I also apologize for what I said too. The words get the best of me.”

“Mine too.” Paul said, looking at me with adoration. It was then, at that moment when he had seemed to come up with a plan. “I want you- to come over. I want you to meet my dad. I don’t care what he says anymore.”

I stared at him in disbelief, and began to chuckle nervously as I scratched at the back of my neck. “Are you sure you just wanked off for the first time? Or did you actually have sex?”

“Shut up John, I’m serious.” Paul said, putting his hand on my thigh. “I want you to meet him. Michael too, he’s my little brother.”

•••


End file.
